Where You'd Least Expect It
by JessicaJ
Summary: She doesn't know him as well as the others, though friendship is sometimes a resilient thing to grow; all it takes is a little persistence- something which Tifa doesn't lack. What grows there instead, was not what they expected.
1. A Special Assignment

**So I was writing a chapter for another one of my stories recently, and I realised something. I like Reeve, and if I had left a certain other dark-haired man of the equation, I could have easily started something… Alas, that was not the right scene for Reeve. So I thought, why not write one for him? I had intended this to be a one-shot- it may well be, but the way it's going right now, I could probably extend it.**

**Please enjoy this, and please leave a review and let me know what you thought.**

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**Where you'd least expect it**

**1. A special assignment**

She'd never really gotten the chance to know him, like she had the others. Vincent, she knew marginally well enough to know to leave him to his own musings; Cid was a great companion, and soon after meteor, she would have considered him one of her closest friends. Yuffie was perhaps a little childish for her liking, though should couldn't help but be charmed by her at times; yes, her laugh was a little shrill, and her outlook on like a little rose-tinted, but she loved how her antics would always bring a smile to her face, even on those days where not even the sunshine could. The others, she had known well enough already before they had embarked upon their life changing journey….

…But Reeve, she'd only _really_ met him after they'd left the crater. He'd tracked them down, and her first impression of him was that he seemed like the type of man who was tired of being stepped upon- a feeling she could perhaps relate to, in some ways. Taller than her easily by several inches, though his broad-set shoulders were not pulled back in the manner of a prouder man. She had raised a brow at his neatly trimmed beard at first, though upon seeing a picture of him without it, she had long decided privately that he suited it better.

Still, two years later, after the hubbub surrounding the events of Geostigma and the feared revival of Sephiroth had died away, she still didn't _know_ him.; though it seemed he had finally taken the initiative to speak up for what he believed in, at last beginning to making amends as though ShinRa's sins were, in fact, his own. On one of their rare meetings in her bar in Edge, she'd remarked lightly that he was getting to become like Vincent; the dark haired man in the navy suit had flushed under her laughing gaze, though he had said nothing more on the subject.

A year later, Reeve founded the WRO. _World Regenesis Organisation_. A world-wide initiate whose goal was to restore the planet. No mean feat, though she admired him for his vision. A continent-wide recruitment programme had ensued in the months following, and soon, men and women were seen in all major towns and cities proudly wearing their navy uniforms. It stood for change; shedding the old ways, and searching for the new.

Barret was a key player all the way over in Corel- he had been campaigning to reopen the mines prior to the formation of the WRO, though with their support, he was able to make it happen. It would take decades before the world could be classed as stable, its resources sustainable, but each step forward was progress, he was well noted for saying.

Now Marlene and Denzel were living with Barret in his newly-built Corel home, she had a lot more time on her hands- more time to think about how her existence with Cloud (for that was all it really was) wasn't healthy for a young woman such as herself. Reeve often had a job or two for Cloud each month, which would send him away for sometimes days on end, though Tifa didn't mind. The pay was good, and it felt good to get real time alone. Time to think about what she was going to do about it.

In fact, Reeve had had tried to recruit her recently, though she had politely declined him, gesturing to the bar behind her. "I've got enough on my hands here, Reeve. But thanks for asking."

"I understand," He had replied, stood in the centre of her bar with the air of a man who would rather be elsewhere. Recently, she had little energy to keep people away from where they truly wanted to be (in Cloud's case, anywhere but here,) and so she made no other comment. She was surprised, though, when he was the one to continue speaking.

"I couldn't have done it without you," He said quietly. "Avalanche, I mean," he added, hurriedly correcting his mistake. "It was your vision, your enthusiasm for your goal that made me see the truth. If it weren't for you, I'd either still be working for them," (His knuckles had whitened at this). "Or I would have died in that godforsaken building when Meteor came down."

Taken aback by this sudden show of passion, she couldn't say anything right away, instead, she watched his face carefully, noting that his warm brown eyes were almost gleaming. "Reeve… I… Let me make you a drink." The landlady in her kicked into action, and before he could protest she had herded him into a seat, a barstool at the counter, and had coaxed out of him what he preferred to drink.

Smiling at his choice- a custom cocktail he preferred- she set to work. Coffee liqueur with hints of vanilla, poured over ice, then a fruit flavoured spirit that was known for its sweetness- Topped off with a dash of lemonade, and her own personal flourish, a wedge of orange. She made two, hoping to try it out for herself, and after sipping at the straw testily, she suddenly knew how to put a smile on his face, even if it were only temporary.

"This is going on my specials board." She announced, leaning on the counter top opposite him, her glass half-empty already. "And I'm calling it… The Reeve."

He gave a small, yet hearty chuckle, running his hand through his near-black hair to keep it out of his eyes. "I shall have to return to endorse it. It is such an honour to have a cocktail named after me- And might I add, a fantastic tasting one."

"Have you tried 'The Avalanche'?"

Over a rainbow of cocktails, Tifa managed to break through Reeve's exterior, and what she found only ignited her curiosity further. Stories about his mother, about life at ShinRa, after a little bit of coaxing, a few women he had dated- It had been three in the afternoon when he had entered, and when Cloud returned from a delivery at nine, he found them still sat at the bar top, though it was now littered with a vast array of different shaped glasses, laughing like they'd been friends for years.

"Did I miss something?" Cloud's mouth turned up at the corners, and he was invited enthusiastically to join them, a 'Reeve' placed eagerly in his unwilling hand.

"S'nothing. Just Reeve's uh… whadaya call it- a company, or-gan-is-a-tion thing." Her hand made a flippant, spasmodic gesture, and she laughed feebly. "is successful. So's we are celebrating!"

Cloud raised a brow. "You mean the WRO?" He gave a gentle laugh at his friend's verbal confusion. "Heard all about it on the news. Listen, Tifa I'm going to get on with the next job. Not feeling too tired, so may as well. I'll be back in a couple of days."

"Hm." She waved her hand dismissively, remaining in an unbroken silence until the front door closed shut behind Cloud once more, the drink she had made him still sitting untouched upon the counter.

"Did I-uh miss something?" Reeve shifted in his stool, all too aware that the previous mirth was long gone from the room, and from his companion, though he noted she was trying to fool him with a smile.

"No, it's nothing! Listen, I'd better clear these up and get on with prep for tonight-" He winced at the sound of several glasses clanging together as she clumsily tried to pick up several at once. Maybe it was the fact that they were slick with condensation, or maybe it was because she was a little more drunk that he had thought- it could have been her blurred vision- but the glasses slid from her grasp, shattering into hundreds of pieces on the tiles at her feet. He held his breath, eyes wide and unsure, trained upon her face. He was afraid that if water should start to leak from the cracks that were clearly showing in her façade, he wouldn't know what to say, or do.

"Here let me help you-" He started, the joviality in his voice almost sickening. She glanced up from the inevitable mess at her feet, trauma-wide eyes fixing upon him as though he had appeared out of thin air, her lips parted.

"I'm sorry, Reeve, I-"

"Don't apologise, just let's get this cleared up." He reached her side, not caring to sidestep the glass pool before her, placing a firm, supporting hand upon her shoulder. "Then if you want we could… talk?"

He winced inwardly at how hesitant his offer sounded. She _needed_ to talk about it. She needed to be _told_ to talk about it.

Though he hadn't known many of Avalanche by face when he had been controlling the creature, Cait Sith, he had gotten to know them as individuals. He knew that Barrett was brash, and impulsive, that Cid was blunt, yet he had a softer side. He didn't know a lot about Vincent at all, he had to admit. Nothing that he couldn't learn from files anyway. Tifa was someone he had known _of_ for a long time- from her days in sector seven, until now. She was fiercely protective of those she loved, she gave everything to her friends, she made sure people were happy around her, all the while hiding what was really inside. He knew how she felt about Cloud, too, and he swallowed at the thought that she might talk about _that_ with him. What could _he_ say? He, who knew her least?

To his surprise, she gave a resolute, heavy breath, before straightening her shoulders and raising her chin. "I'll get the brush."

Together, they worked to brush the glass shards into a gleaming pile. Allowing her time alone to take the glass to the outdoor bins, he took it upon himself to begin loading the dirty glasses into the industrial dishwasher tray, sliding down the heavy lid just as she returned into the bar.

"Thanks Reeve." She sighed, flopping down into a booth.

"No problem. That's what friends do, right?"

"Right." She nodded, following him with her gaze as he traversed the network of tables, the stools still set upon them, taking a seat directly adjacent to hers.

"Are you going to tell me what this is about?" He rested his chin on his folded hands, surveying her carefully. To his surprise, she laughed, wiping her cheeks briskly and lifting her eyes to the ceiling fan that whirred above their heads.

"It's selfish really, but… ah... Cloud didn't even know it was my birthday tomorrow. Or if he does know, he doesn't care. He's going away on another job for a few days, and he's going to miss it."

Reeve felt something inside him drop. Was he guilty too, for having not known? "It's your birthday tomorrow?"

"Yes, Reeve," She gave an exasperated sigh, though smiled fondly at his pained expression. "There's no need to look so worried. I wouldn't really expect anyone to know. You know, we didn't find time to check what day it was, never mind celebrate birthdays when we were chasing Sephiroth across the globe."

"I understand that, but… Cloud is your… partner?"

She shook her head resolutely. "He has known me longest. My supposed best friend, I _would_ expect to remember…" Tugging her hair over one shoulder, she ran her fingers through it idly. "Never mind. I just hoped that… Maybe this year, now things have calmed down…"

"Now that you are alone…?" He prompted.

"I'm stupid, I know. There's no way it's ever going to work between us. I've left it too long to say anything, and I doubt that if he felt something, he would have kept quiet."

"I feel a little out of my depth here, Tifa, but… Shall I tell you what I think?" She gave a soft smile, and a gentle nod.

"I've made myself look like a fool, and sat here complaining to you- I guess I deserve to hear your opinion. Go ahead."

"You are- I don't know how to say this without sounding generic, though I insist I say this with deep sincerity- you are a beautiful young woman. Smart, strong, funny…" She flushed prettily, hiding her mouth behind her hand. Her eyes seemed to dance, the reflection of the ceiling fan he thought.

"As a single man, I find myself wondering what the hell Cloud has done to deserve… you?" His shoulders sagged, and he suddenly felt a little foolish. Giving a self-conscious cough at her silent scrutinisation, he loosened his tie a little. "I'm just saying that… well you are still young. There's no reason why you can't take matter into your own hands. You know, get out there, meet new people. Falling in love doesn't have to be difficult, or hard. _I_ certainly wouldn't look down on you if you decided to, uh… date different people. You have every right to. And Cloud… he shouldn't have monopoly on that, if he isn't going to open his mouth.

"In short Tifa… you need to take the time to be you. The real you. Not the Tifa everyone expects. Go ahead and shock us. All anyone wants is for you to be happy. Including me." He finished, spreading his palms upon the table top, resisting the urge to drum his fingertips at her progressing quiet. "Well, I suppose I'd better go. I still have some paperwork to do tonight."

He sidled awkwardly out of the booth, striding forward to retrieve his coat hung by the door. Halfway across the bar, she caught him by the arm, turning him around. She still said nothing, instead stepping forwards and wrapping her arms tight about his neck, her cheek pressed into his shoulder. Unsure of how to respond, he settled upon placing his hands flat upon her back. Her breaths were slow, steady, and most importantly, calm.

"Thank you so much Reeve. You _are_ a good friend." She murmured her words against his hair before planting a chaste, dry kiss upon his cheek. She then withdrew, scooping her hair back behind her ears, she offered one last smile before he nodded to her, taking his coat and leaving the bar behind without bothering putting it on, though the night air carried a definite chill. He didn't feel it though.

He fumbled clumsily in the pockets, until he finally produced his PHS. His primary agent was on his speed dial settings, and in no time at all the dial tone was reverberating dully at his ear.

"Ah, yes. Sorry to call at this hour. I have a unique assignment for you."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The morning came pretty much like any other, except she was positive that her alarm clock had never sounded like that before… Of course, it was her PHS! Groaning, she reached out blindly and fumbled around on her bedside table for the offending device.

"Hello?" She muttered rather grumpily, after having misjudging the distance and hitting herself in the side of the head with the damn thing. Upon hearing Yuffie's shrill greeting, she groaned, rolling onto her back and patting at her tousled hair with her free hand. "Wassamater?"

"_HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIFA_!" She grinned, holding the phone a good few inches from her ear. Ok, so she'd forgive the little Shinobi fool just this once for waking her a good half hour before her alarm.

"You remembered!" She laughed, her voice still a little thick from sleep. She kicked away the duvet, and hauled herself into a sitting position, groping blinding with her toes for her slippers. Shuffling into them, she got herself up on her feet, and made her way towards the window as her friend garbled on in her half-attentive ear.

"_SO- I was thinking- You. Me. Dinner. Shopping. Manicure. And then- we should totally have a night of it_!"

"Oh I dunno, Yuf, the bar needs-"

"_Screw the bar! You know full well your staff can take care of it! Well, I'm on my way over now, so I have like, ALL DAY to convince you_!"

"You're on your way over _now_?" She rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand, trying to shift the gritty residue of sleep from the corners.

"_Yup. So get your ass in the shower. I'll stop by and get us some of those bagels you like. And a latte."_

"You know I have a latte machine downstairs, right?"

"_Yeah, yeah, well, you know the coffee guy at this place I go to is like, hot. Anything to keep him busy for a few minutes just so I can stare at his cute bu_-"

"Yuffie! Jesus, alright! I'll take a cappuccino. Lots of sugar too." She had a feeling she was going to be needing it, as she squinted in the sudden burst of light admitted by the opening of the curtains.

"_Ok, love- you-byeee!_"

Tossing her phone across the room so it landed in the heap of her duvet with a delicate _thump_, she stretched out her arms above her head, grunting as her spine gave a few satisfying cracks. Feeling that today was going to be a good day, she felt that her morning shower should perhaps be accompanied by some music. She shoved her personal music device into her speakers and selected her playlist, before methodically stripping down. Humming along to the bright, chirpy tune that now filled her bedroom, she kicked her night clothes towards her washing hamper before grabbing a clean towel and stepping into her adjacent bathroom.

Leaving the door open so the sunlight and the music could enter through, she found herself singing along to some catchy pop song as she worked her fruity shampoo into a lather. Although she washed her hair with it every day, today it smelled fresher, and sharper. Her skin seemed to sing as she scoured at it with the lemon scented scrub one of her barmaids had given her a few weeks ago- some present she couldn't use because of her skin type or something. Even the pipes didn't seem to be as temperamental today, though even if they had been, she knew that somehow, it couldn't have ruined her day. Shutting off the water, she wrapped her hair in a towel, and shrugged herself into her bathrobe. Padding into her room, still humming along to the music, she set about teasing a comb through her hair. Glancing at the clock, she noted that Yuffie would most likely arrive in at least ten minutes- enough time to roughly dry her hair, dress, and even put on some lip balm and a touch of blush to the apples of her cheeks- something she didn't do often, but when she had done before, it had gotten her compliments.

She did this all in perfect time, already unlocking the front door of the bar when she spotted Yuffie on her way around the corner from the front step.

"Good morning my wonderful, gorgeous birthday girl!" Yuffie exclaimed, Giving her a fierce one armed hug, two steaming take-out cups balanced expertly in the other hand. "Where shall we sit?" Tifa left the doors open to encourage in the fresh morning breeze, taking the seat by the east windows, in the sun. "So, is Cloud at home?" Yuffie glanced toward the door, where usually his coat hung.

"He left last night when Reeve was here."

"That so?" She took a sip from her coffee, then a bite from her bagel. "Eshabashtart."

"Pardon?" Tifa raised a brow at her companion, unable to decipher her word through her mouthful of bagel.

"I said- he is a bastard- Cloud, not Reeve. But maybe he left to pick something up? A present perhaps." Tifa smiled at the hopeful note in her friend's voice.

"You and I both know the likelihood of _that_ happening." She guffawed bitterly, before taking a bite from her breakfast. "So, that aside, where are we heading today?"

"Oh, only all the best stores! I know this bar's been raking in the gil! You can afford yourself some nice things. Plus, I gotta buy you a present while we're out. I've booked in for our nails doing around 3pm!"

"Nails?" Tifa glanced down at her hands. She'd had to keep her nails neat, clean and trimmed for her training as a teenager, and so had never really gotten into the habit of excessively decorating them. "I don't know about that Yuffie…"

"Come on! I'm going to get mine dark blue, to match my dress for later. They're going to be so _cute_!" The younger girl gave her a mock frown across the table. "And _you_ are going to get yourself something hot to wear tonight. Everyone is gunna be looking at you."

"I doubt that." She chuckled.

"I don't. But we'll make it a challenge."

"I'm sorry?" She set down her coffee immediately after raising it to her lips.

"How many cute guy's numbers you can get!"

"Yuffie I'm not going to-"

"Shh! I won't hear it! What harm can it do? I didn't say you had to call them. And you never know…" She winked.

"Yuffie, you make me feel so old sometimes," She sighed, running her fingers gently across her scalp.

"Ah, now you see- you're meant to feel young. You'll see. I am not going to take no for an answer either. We are going to have a blast."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Are you kidding?" Yuffie scoffed from across the store loudly, capturing unwanted attention from the shop assistant who was now peering slyly over at them from across the counter, as well as a handful of other customers nearby.

"Um, no…" She answered, hushed, contemplating the garment she held up to eye level. There wasn't anything wrong with the dress, was there?

"Well, sure it's alright for say, a christening or something. I'm talking like…" The Shinobi routed through a nearby rail until she came up triumphant. The dress she dangled in front of Tifa's face was certainly wonderful, but she'd simply ignored it one first glance. "This one is super hot."

"Yellow? Isn't that a little… gaudy?"

"No colour is gaudy Tifa." Yuffie snorted with derision, setting the dress back upon the rail loudly. "You just gotta think plain."

"Can I help you ladies?" The shop assistant had arrived at their side, clearly unimpressed by their antics.

"Um, no. We're good thanks." Tifa replied politely, though her companion didn't seem impressed by the snotty woman's intrusion.

"Well, I am just concerned that perhaps the items in this store are outside of your… um, how can I put this?"

"You're gunna say price range aren't you?" Yuffie huffed, her hands going to her hips. Tifa smelled danger.

"Well, perhaps not so bluntly, but yes."

"Are you on commission?" Yuffie fired back at the shop assistant, who was now straightening her thick, fashionable glasses.

Quite taken aback, she replied: "Yes, I am."

"In that case, I'm not buying anything from you. I was going to buy two dresses for my friend for her birthday, but your presumptions have offended me." Yuffie was fumbling in her pocket, to produce a gil card that gleamed gold. Tifa knew enough to know that it was pretty much the highest interest account you could get.

"I… My apologies, ma'am, I…"

"Too late. These dresses are all a bag of shit anyways. Bye!"

They left the store, Tifa with her mouth open, emitting strangled laughter, and Yuffie with her jaw set firmly. Today was definitely a good day.

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The two shop-weary girls staggered in through the front door at approximately 6pm, laden with shopping bags. Tifa had never felt so frivolous as she had today, though she had to admit that Yuffie had been right. She _could_ afford it, and why the hell not? Today was her birthday, and she was spending it with one her best friends.

Checking her PHS, she noted a message from Reeve. A simple, succinct note to wish her happy birthday, and to have a good day. Smiling, she glanced up to find Yuffie scrutinising her message from over her shoulder.

"So, uh, what was Reeve doing here last night exactly?" She asked slyly, tossing herself onto Tifa's made bed, legs dangling awkwardly off the edge. She had thrown one arm over her eyes, though her lips were pulled into a smirk.

"Well, he came by to ask me if I could or if I wanted to work for the WRO. I said no, but then he ended up staying a while. You know how much I enjoy prodding people who hide in shells." She rolled her eyes, rifling through one of her bags, still smiling as she caught sight of her newly manicured nails. Bright orange.

"Oh. What did you talk about?"

"Oh, well it was embarrassing actually. We were kind of drunk, and- no nothing like that!- Cloud came and left, and I got upset…" She rolled her eyes, gesticulating flippantly with her hands. "He just talked to me about, well… he said I was… I was beautiful, and young and smart…" Grinning, she seated herself next to Yuffie, easing the weight from her aching feet.

Yuffie was smiling, too, her eyes wide with mild excitement. "Wow! You say he was drunk?"

"Only a little." She admitted, rolling a kink out of her shoulder. "But he was really supportive. Kind of unexpected, from him."

"He's alright. I guess I know him better 'cause I work for him and all… But I sure haven't heard him call anyone beautiful before."

"I'm sure he was just being polite." She insisted, though she couldn't hide the glow from her face.

"Don't tell me you're crushing on him?"

"Well, he _is_ handsome. A gentleman, too- But please don't say anything! I'd hate for it to be awkward between us." She pouted at her friend, who only shoved her shoulder playfully. "I'm sure he was just trying to be nice to me anyway."

"Sure, sure. Your secret is safe with me!" Yuffie started at the sudden shrill call of her PHS. "Ugh, dammit, bet this's my Dad. Let me take this downstairs, I'll probably end up yelling in Wutaiin."

"Ok, sure. I'll try on my dress again while you're downstairs."

Yuffie hastened out of the room, waiting until she was downstairs and had shut herself in the tiny downstairs toilet well out of accidental earshot before answering. "What the hell Reeve? You almost blew my cover! What if she'd seen who was calling?"

"_Then you should have told her it was about work. Which, might I point out, isn't a lie._"

"Yeah, yeah, what is it?"

"_I'm just confirming whether or not you will be out of the bar, and if so, when?_"

"Why the hell you care so much, Reeve?"

"_I'm sorry?_"

"It's not like you know her that well or anything."

_"Would you rather her think that all her friends had forgotten her birthday?"_ He said sternly, making her feel suddenly ashamed. It wasn't like Tifa had said anything…

"No." She muttered glumly, leaning against the tiny sink.

"_Then what time?_"

"I can have her out by nine thirty. Then I can pull the move whenever you give the signal."

_"Good. Place the spare key at the drop point."_

"Jesus Reeve, you're taking this real serious aren't you?"

"_Is there anything else?_"

"Just one thing: Since when were you such a damn flirt?" She left him garbling for only a few seconds before she terminated the call, grinning smugly to herself. She was definitely going to keep an eye out from now on.

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**Yes, I am definitely splitting this one up. Sorry. EEK! Please review, first time in any other ff7 pairing.**

**JJ**


	2. Celebrate In Style

**So, here is chapter 2! I hope you enjoy it, and maybe you will change your minds….**

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**2. Celebrate in style**

Yuffie had worked at Tifa's bar for a little while a year or so ago, just to help out when things got a little hectic, so she was able to rack up a cocktail with about as much proficiency as Tifa. She made up a selection, about eight or so, before heading upstairs with them precariously balanced on a tray.

Drinking before going out was a sure-fire way to save money- and to make damn sure you have a great time the second you walked into haze of music, people and alcohol. Something Tifa experienced pretty much every night. That's why Yuffie was so intent on taking her to some more trendy clubs she knew about. All she had to do was drop her name (hell, even Tifa was bound to be well known), and they were in the heart of it.

Grinning in anticipation, she pushed open Tifa's bedroom door with her hip. "Jesus! Did you make one of every colour? I'll be high from the E-numbers!" Tifa giggled, selecting a bright blue Hawaiian first of and taking a long sip through the bendy straw.

"Tifa you look super hot. Like, I've never seen you look so good."

"Is that a compliment?" She laughed. Black was a colour she often wore, though even Yuffie couldn't argue with the fact that it suited her to a tee. It clung to all the right curves, exposed just enough flesh to be sexy, though it was modest enough for Tifa to be satisfied. Yuffie wondered what the hell had happened to the 20-year old she'd first met in the leather skirt. Five years sure had changed a lot. Though Tifa did have her reasons for hiding her body- she bore scars that even Yuffie was in awe of- of course she wouldn't want to draw attention to those, and the painful memories that came with them.

"Of course it is." Yuffie reassured her, taking a long drink from her pinã colada. "I'm sure you'd even test Vincent's conviction!"

"Now that'd be interesting, wouldn't it?" Tifa choked, laughing uncontrollably. "Imagine: Vincent being romantic!"

"You could say the same for pretty much _all_ of the men in our group!" Yuffie scoffed in response, setting her drink down so she could wriggle herself into her own dress for the evening.

"I guess you're right," Tifa mused, seating herself at her dressing table to brush out her hair. "Though I suppose if you got on the right side of Cid, he could be a real softy. Barrett has eyes only for Marlene, and Cloud… Well, we all know he's pretty much a robot."

"You are missing out Reeve…" Yuffie suppressed her smirk as she zipped herself into her garment, turning only to scrutinise Tifa's expression. To her surprise, she was neither smirking nor frowning.

"I don't really know enough to say. He seems pretty stern, but then again he _is_ a busy man with a very important job to do." Pausing to pin back a section of her hair, Tifa half-turned to look up at Yuffie, currently stood by the floor-length mirror. "Then again, from what I do know, he seems a real gentleman. But you work with the guy- you tell me!"

"Well, I dunno. Maybe you'll never find out." Yuffie only grinned again as he jaw length hair fell into her, leaning forwards to fasten the straps of her shoes; because she knew for sure that Tifa was going to have formed a more definite opinion by the end of tonight.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The music was almost deafening; though after the seven or so cocktails she and Yuffie had consumed before leaving the house, she found she didn't mind so much. Just waiting at the bar, she felt her hips moving along in time with the beat, the bass thudding in her ears a sweet and blissful escape from reality. An hour or two had slipped by, and the aforementioned challenge was well underway. Tifa had a handful of napkins stuffed into her purse with scrawled names and numbers, though laughably, were she sober, she wouldn't have even considered the men to whom they belonged. How anyone could find _anyone_ this way was beyond her- though she supposed it would just be so easy; A flirt here, and a suggestion there, and things could lead into more intimate territory.

Though for tonight, she was just out with a friend; people were looking at them, but she was drunk enough not to care. She was having a good time; the stuffy dance floor, the sweating, jostling mass of bodies all moving in synchrony with the beat, and the spinning lights were all part of the atmosphere. She was part of an entity, like a drop of water is part of a wave, rolling and crashing down upon a sandy shore.

Singing along to each song she knew until she was almost hoarse, she thought nothing could possibly ruin her fun… until a small, clammy hand tugged at her wrist.

"What?" Whatever it was Yuffie was mouthing to her, she couldn't make it out over the thud of the base. Upon reading her friend's expression though, she took her silently by the hand, leading her through the masses of people, back towards the entrance, where a cool gust of fresh night air assaulting her sweating skin.

"Are you alright Yuffie?" Tifa inquired once her slightly strangled-sounding voice could be heard over the resounding boom of the bass, finding enough clarity in her mind to peer into her friend's face, noting how pale she looked.

"I don't feel so good… I think… I dunno, I might have got spiked."

"When? Who?" She couldn't help the spike of fury that caused her voice to peak, turning her head back toward the club's door, as if somehow the culprit would walk out and announce himself.

"I… I don't know… Listen maybe I just need some fresh air… if you give me a minute we could go back ins-"

"No, Yuffie." It might be her birthday, but all that concerned her right now was that Yuffie stayed safe. "We should get you back to the bar. If we could make you sick or… wait and see if you feel better?"

"Are you sure?" Yuffie rested her forehead on Tifa's shoulder, her slender arms circling her friend. "I feel so bad…"

"Don't be silly," She chuckled, kissing her damp hair. "I've had an amazing time with my best friend. Let's go home to bed and we can laugh about it in the morning."

Yuffie complied eventually, and hand in hand, they set off down the street, the reverberating thud of the music fading away into the night. They left the main nightlife district behind, and soon all was quiet, save for the click-click of their heels on the pavement. Yuffie seemed a little subdued, her hand clammy and shaking in hers, though she kept up conversation, wanting to make sure she was still coherent.

Upon reaching the bar, she fumbled a few moments with her keys, trying to insert it several times into the lock before eventually succeeding. "Right, now all we have to do is get you some water and-"

"SURPRISE!" She almost fell over with shock.

She was temporarily blinded by a burst of light as the overhead bulbs came to life, her rapidly recovering vision greeted by the sight of her friends, gathered in the bar. There was Barrett with the children, Cid and Shera, even Vincent was there, stood behind a smirking Reeve. To her surprise, Red XIII was there too, sat beside Marlene, his gleaming white teeth exposed in his strange kind of smile. Though she noted there was no Cloud.

The room was filled with brightly coloured balloons, and a hand-made banner proclaimed "Happy Birthday Tifa!" in garish letters, draped across the entire back wall of the bar. The familiar scent of cigar smoke filled the air, and she noted that some of the tables had been moved around to create an open space, and that there was actually a live band set up, the members waving and smiling from their places by their instruments.

"Oh my god…" She managed to stutter, as the group snickered at her sudden loss of articulacy. "Yuffie… did you… are you… you were part of this, right?" The dark-haired ninja had the grace to look a little sheepish, her demeanour suddenly the image of health, not the strange deathly-pallor of before.

"I had to get you out of the way. Sorry!" She slipped an arm around Tifa's waist, planting an affectionate kiss on her cheek. "Nobody forgot about you, see?"

"I… Thank you everyone…" She couldn't help it- she was crying- though in no time at all, several pairs of arms enveloped her. "It's just so nice to have you all here together."

"C'mon Tifa, let's get you something to drink." Cid steered her by the arms towards the bar, where he proceeded to, under her instruction, prepare her a cocktail. Somehow, he'd managed to balls it up, but she drank it anyway. Once again, she was assuaged with the notion that nothing could ruin this day for her.

It was just after eleven, though it was allowed that the children stay up just a little later, until midnight at the latest; a fact which appeased Marlene, seeing as she was so insistent that she wanted to dance along to the band as they played. Barrett was going to drop them off at Elmyra's house, since she had recently moved to Edge, so he could then rejoin the party, and there was no danger of keeping them up.

As time slid by, Tifa was amazed at how awake she felt; she had so much to say to everyone, even Vincent- It was as if she hadn't seen them all together in years, though perhaps it was probably getting close to about a year since they had all been in the same place like this. Tifa realised just how isolated she had been feeling, perhaps without knowing it, holed up here with Cloud and only the occasional visitor to keep her company, though it was not like the former made much of a contribution. She couldn't help but feel a little sour that he were the only person not here; He should have known. He should have remembered.

Yuffie was on top form; making cocktails and tossing the glasses in the air, juggling with the tumblers- putting her training to excellent use, as Cid remarked, laughing. The Shinobi was clearly pleased with herself for her role in tonight's exploits, and Tifa marvelled at how she seemed to have found the time to organise it all. She was never going to underestimate Yuffie, or her powers of persuasion again, that was for sure. She couldn't help but notice that one member among them seemed a little on the quiet side, seated in the corner by the door, fingers drumming idly along to the beat of the music.

"Reeve?" She touched his shoulder lightly, though she may as well have applied an electrical change, for the way he started. "Sorry to scare you- looked a little lost there for a moment." She slid into the seat opposite him.

He gave a nervous chuckle, gazing down into an almost untouched whiskey before answering. "I was thinking. Something that is becoming a little tedious to me, I must admit."

"You don't look relaxed- is there something on your mind?" She tilted her head to one side to consider him, a soft smile playing on her lips. Behind her, she could hear the children laughing- Cid was trying to do the waltz with Marlene, to a song that couldn't have been worse suited for such a dance.

"Just work related things-" He glanced up, wincing a little at her sympathetic expression. "Oh god, I am such a kill joy aren't I? I'm sorry, this is supposed to be your special day." He gave a dry laugh, before downing the contents of his glass with a grimace.

"It's alright. You know, I keep trying to push it from my mind, but…" She shot a look behind her, her smile flickering back into life at the sight of Shera and Cid dancing together, while Marlene persistently tried to sway a particularly resilient Vincent into dancing with her. "I'm angry that Cloud didn't come… I thought… Maybe he would. That he'd just gone away to- oh I don't know, lull me into a false sense of security."

Reeve quirked a brow in agreement, circling his empty tumbler in his palms. "We tried to call him. No answer on his PHS."

"Sounds about right to me. But I'm not going to let the fact that he isn't here ruin my night. And I'm not going to let 'work' ruin yours!" She slid out of the booth, gracefully, considered the heels, and offered him her outstretched hand.

"I'm sorry?" He looked at her hand strangely.

"Aren't you going to dance with the birthday girl?" Her face pulled into a pout, he could have laughed. "Please?"

"The things I do for you…" He huffed, grinning shyly as he hauled himself to his feet and took her small hand in his. It was then she noted he still wore his navy uniform coat. He must have been hot- the interior of the bar was certainly humid enough to steam the windows, and warrant opening them to the cooler May air.

"I barely seen you out of this coat, you know…" She remarked, reaching out to touch the embroidery on the shoulder pads. It really was quite beautiful.

"Would you like to?" He quirked a brow, and she laughed at his easy, flirtatious response.

"Well, it _is_ my birthday…"

"As you seem so keen on reminding me." This close, she noted just how warm his eyes were; dark brown, like chocolate. They reminded her suddenly of her father's, whose eyes had always been a few shades darker than hers. "As you wish. I do not like to keep a lady waiting."

In one smooth motion, he unhooked the clasps that crossed over his chest and slid the heavy coat from his shoulders, turning to hang it by the door, as he had last time. Underneath, he wore a plain white shirt, a black tie and grey pants. He turned back towards her, undoing the buttons at his wrists to roll up his sleeves, revealing rather powerful forearms.

"You seem to be taking this dancing business rather seriously, Mr Tuesti." She remarked, one hand on hip, waiting.

The fondness in his eyes intensified as he laughed again, loosening his tie a little. "I take _all_ kinds of business seriously, Miss Lockheart. Now- are we dancing, or not?"

Lips pulled into an amused line, she took his strong hand once more, leading him between the tabletops towards where many of her friends were already gathered. Yuffie was doing the most ridiculous jig she had even seen with Denzel, and she chuckled to herself to think that Yuffie would have most definitely _not_ gotten as many numbers, had she danced like _that_ earlier.

The music had turned to a sort of ballad- a fact which seemed to suit Marlene's tastes, as well as Cid and Shera's current dance. She suddenly felt a little stupid, stood at the edge of the dance floor, though it seemed Reeve didn't need to think twice; his firm hand was at her waist, leading her into an easy, well-practised step. Privately, she was impressed she'd managed not to step on his toes. Yet.

"You dance like a pro." She remarked, the palm resting upon his shoulder warmed by the heat of the skin beneath. He laughed through his nose, lowering his head a little. Dark hair brushed her cheeks, and she was suddenly enveloped by his fresh, clean scent.

"I had lessons. Isn't that awful?" She could only giggle into his shoulder, secretly pleased by the gentle rumble in his chest as he joined her. Reeve was continuing to impress her.

One dance turned into two, though when the music perked up a little, she found herself in demand from her favourite pilot. Reeve relinquished his dance partner gracefully, though much to her delight he did not return to his isolated seat, instead choosing to chat with Vincent and Red by the bar. Marlene had obviously given up on her quest to make Vincent dance with her, and seemed content enough with Yuffie.

Cid told her, in-between the various exuberant twirls he sent her on, that he'd brought most of the crew here in his new airship, The Shera. She was in far too good a mood to shush his talk of how smooth her engines were, or how sweet the handling was compared to the old Highwind, so instead she settled with nodding periodically until Yuffie and Shera saw fit to rescue her.

"The kids wanna give you your presents before they have to go to bed," Shera said, slipping her arm around Cid's shoulders and smiling.

"Presents?" She clasped her hands before her, Yuffie's hand in the small of her back directing her towards a booth on the far side of the room, where aforementioned children were eagerly waiting. She was sure the pile of colourfully-wrapped packages had not been there before. "You shouldn't have bought me presents as well…" she mumbled, forced to sit by rough hands upon her shoulders.

Though each person, it seemed, had a gift for her. Yuffie's gift of a pair of antique opal earrings she had been ogling at in a shop window weeks ago was the first she opened, her face breaking into a wide grin of recognition. Shera had hand-made a summer dress for her, and Cid handed her a perfect miniature of the Highwind about the size of her open hand, made from tempered steel with tiny propellers that actually spun. She could even count the little cabin windows engraved carefully into the port and starboard sides of the airship model. It was something that would made her smile everyday as she looked at it, as the many memories she had from that ship returned to her.

The thought that had evidently gone into Vincent's gift surprised her- one of their rare conversations in the past whilst travelling with Avalanche had been about their shared love for books. Within the paper, Tifa found a pristine, and not to mention extremely rare first edition copy of a book by one of her favourite authors.

Marlene's gift was a rough, handmade ragdoll, with woollen hair, buttons for eyes, and a long black dress. Tifa realised at once that she had gone to a great effort to try and make it look like her- the wool was almost the exact shade of black-brown as her hair, and the smile pretty much as lopsided, she joked. Denzel presented her with a scrap book he had compiled, filled with pictures of Avalanche, each one annotated lovingly with a little snippet of their story. He'd been saving it for a Christmas gift, apparently, though after a swift elbow to the ribs from Marlene, he hastily added that it was finished anyway.

Red XIII presented her with a small earthen-ware flask, containing one of Cosmo's rarest and most potent fire-whiskies, as well as a pouch containing some of the locally grown coffee beans, a contrast to Barrett's gift of a new pair of sturdy steel-toecaps, made of soft tan leather, originally for the Corel Miners. She _had_ been complaining that she missed the comfort of her old ones, and you never knew when you'd need them again…

All eyes were on Reeve as the torn wrapping paper was shifted away, and she noted that all but he had given her a present. Not that she wanted anything at all, she didn't expect a thing from anyone. But she wondered why everyone was staring at him, making him so apparently uncomfortable. "I, uh… I did manage to get a hold of something for you… It's nothing like what these guys got for you but…"

"You didn't have to do this," She muttered. "All of you."

"Nonsense!" Cid exclaimed from his position wedged onto the seat beside her. "You deserved a party! And besides- none of it woulda been possible without Mr Reeve Tuesti!" Cid crooned, raising his bottle of beer in salute.

Tifa turned to the aforementioned Reeve, who was apparently now trying to avoid attention more desperately than before, stood at the back of the group; staring down at his shoes whilst wearing a fixed grimace, regardless of the fact that all eyes were now on him. He had the grace to flush violently, a fact which Barrett was all too happy to point out. "You did this?" She hadn't intended her words to sound so accusatory, but then again, she hadn't expected him of all people to go to such lengths.

"I… Yes." His smile was a little strained, evidently uncomfortable with the attention and scrutiny he was now subject to. "Though I asked that nobody mention…" His comment, directed specifically at a now chortling Cid, drifted off into silence at her approach.

"Thank you." She beamed at him, before giving him what was probably the second unwanted hug in two days. He laughed uneasily, all too aware that he was under the scrutiny of the entire group. conscious of this also, Tifa pulled away, stepping back a respectful half pace. He didn't seem to have been let off the hook by the other quite yet, though, and so, defeated, he cleared his throat.

"I _did_ get this for you. I see the stall everyday on my way to work, and I never really found cause to buy one before now- it's not much but I thought of you when I saw it..." Reaching into his pocket, he produced something so delicate, it took her a moment to realise what it was, until he reached for her hand, and began to fasten it at her wrist: A fine silver chain from which dangled a tiny metal work- heart, and a miniature key. It took him a few attempts, for the chain was so small, and fit so snugly about her wrist, though eventually he suceeded. It was so light it was almost impossible to detect dangling at her wrist.

"You didn't need to buy me a present Reeve…" She stammered, suddenly lost for what to say. "None of you did. It already speaks volumes that you are here with me now." She first embraced Marlene and Denzel, knowing that soon they would have no excuses left to delay their bedtime. She made the rounds, thanking all of her friends for their presents- she even managed to get a hug out of Vincent, though perhaps it had been particularly one-sided.

Before she knew it, the band was playing again, and Barrett was gruffly excusing himself- he was driving the kids to Elmyra's, and hadn't had the chance to drink yet- a fact that she knew he intended on rectifying upon his return to the bar. Yuffie was hugging her again, garbling about how much she loved her- the cocktails talking clearly- all sufficient enough to allow Reeve to relax once more. Tifa and Yuffie were giggling about something, a mischievous look in the latter's eyes, and after collecting a few of the presents still laid out on the table, they disappeared temporarily upstairs.

"I've been dying to get these heels off all night," Tifa admitted, throwing herself back onto her bed with a relieved sigh. "Plus, these boots are awesome." Heaving herself upright once more, she began tugging off her shoes, replacing them with the brand-new pair of boots Barrett had given her. Then, she set about wriggling out of her dress, intending on putting on the wonderful yellow one Shera had made. A dress, she noted, that was not unlike the extortionately priced garment Yuffie had refused to buy from the snobby shopkeeper earlier that day.

"Hey, did you hear that?"

"What?" Tifa looked up from appraising her dress.

"I dunno, it sounded like- a chocobo noise or something."

"Cloud's PHS makes that noise for a reminder," she recalled, tugging her dress on over her head. "I'll check his room- he might have left it behind."

Sure enough, upon opening his bedroom door across the hall, ignoring the feeling that she was intruding somehow, she noted the offending device, flashing innocently atop the dresser. Frowning, she flipped it open, Yuffie hovering at her shoulder. A notification flashed up, reporting a new voicemail. It was unlike Cloud to leave his PHS behind, though she supposed she should check it up, in case it were urgent. Punching a few buttons and pressing the phone to her ear, she listened to the automated female announce the time and date the message was left. Followed by:

"_Cloud?_" Then a curse. Reeve's voice. "_What a time to not answer your damn phone. I don't even know why I gave you the newest model… Well, listen: If you get this, head back to Edge ASAP. You're missing out on someone's birthday. And I think she'll be pretty let down if you are the only one to not make it. Reeve out._ End of messages…"

"What're you thinking?" Yuffie probed, nibbling at her thumbnail.

"I'm not sure," She closed the PHS slowly, letting her hand fall to her side, the device still gripped in her fingers. "I honestly don't know what to think. He's never left his PHS home before."

"Don't tell me you're worrying about him now?" Yuffie frowned, peering into Tifa's conflicted face.

"He didn't say where he was going… Why would he leave this here unless he didn't want anyone to find out?" She fretted, standing in the middle of Cloud's empty room as though it would somehow tell her where he had gone to.

Footsteps on the stair caught her attention, though it was only Reeve. "I saw you come up…" He spotted Yuffie half-over the threshold, conflicted, a beam of light from the hall illuminating Tifa's worried face. "Is something wrong?"

She could only open her palm in response, the PHS glinting innocently in the naked bulb's light. Reeve frowned. "That is most unlike him." He remarked, taking it from her palm as though examining it would do any good.

"You'll look into it tomorrow, right?" Yuffie implored, and it was only them that Tifa recalled that Reeve was Yuffie's boss.

He nodded sincerely. "I shall. But for now, It's probably nothing; he wouldn't want your birthday spoiled because of his inattentiveness. You should return downstairs."

"I suppose you're right…" She sighed, stepping out into the hall once more, closing the door to his room softly behind her. It was only then that Reeve raised his eyebrow at her mismatched attire. "Dancing isn't easy in heels you know?" She joked lamely, aware that Yuffie was already heading back down the stairs, leaving them alone in the narrow bulb-lit landing.

"I can't imagine," He returned her smile, though it was perhaps just as unfelt. "We should go downstairs. Try not to worry, Tifa. It's most likely nothing. I shall investigate it tomorrow."

"Thank you, again, Reeve," Inhaling deeply, she stepped around him, toward the stairway, Reeve following a few steps behind. "I owe you."

"Of course you don't." He replied, once at the foot of the stairs.

"Can't I repay you with a dance at least?" Her smile felt a little stronger this time, and his gentle frown dissipated.

"It would be my pleasure."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**This chapter was getting long, so I thought it best to end it there. Well, a handful of people have said that they can't quite see the Reeve-Tifa thing yet, though I thank you for reading it anyway, and having faith in me! I promise I can make it work, somehow.**

**JJ**


	3. Breaking Away

**I am totally on the ball with this one- I've had this chapter written for days, and the next one is almost done; and if you review… I might consider updating!**

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**Chapter 3. Breaking Away**

She had danced and danced pretty much all night, because it saved her talking, and thinking. Thankfully, in Reeve's case, he knew not to say anything, and when she danced with him, she was in a blissful peace… and that had been the last thing she remembered.

She woke in her bed, the grey light of morning filtering in through her curtains, beside a lightly-snoring Yuffie, unsure of how and when she had gotten there. Yuffie had always been a light sleeper, and the fact that Tifa's bed had a tendency to creak whenever she went to get up off the mattress meant that her attempted escape did not go unnoticed.

She pretended she only needed the bathroom, and returned to the comfort of the sheets and to Yuffie's questions. "Were you wasted last night or just avoiding everyone else?"

"Why?" She asked, aghast, propping herself up on her elbow.

"You didn't really say much after we came downstairs. You had a few shots of whiskey with Barrett, and then you danced with Reeve for a while." The shinobi's stern exterior crumbled a little then, though Tifa knew she'd have to suffer before she found out exactly what it was Yuffie wasn't telling her.

she decided to bite. "I don't remember coming to bed…"

"That's because you literally fell asleep in Reeve's arms. He had to carry you up to bed- Cid and Barrett were obviously too wasted for the job and I can't imagine that Vincent would have volunteered." Yuffie snorted, stretching her arms out above her head.

"I fell asleep while we were _dancing_?" Tifa felt the blood rise to her face then, and wondered what the heck she was going to say to him the next time they met.

"Yup. Out cold." The sarcastic comment she was expecting didn't come; instead, Yuffie smiled gently at Tifa, though she looked anything but mocking. "Do you wanna talk about last night? I got the feeling that you were trying to hide behind Reeve, not just dance with him."

"I was trying my best not to worry about Cloud. I'm sure he is just away on a delivery. At least that's what he told me." Tifa nibbled her lower lip, toying with a loose thread in her bedspread.

"Reeve said he'd look into it remember? In fact, I'd put money on it that even though he left here at 3am, he'll be awake and already onto it."

Tifa glanced over to her bedside-table where the clock told it to be 8am. "You think so?"

"I know so. Reeve is usually in the office early. He hates wasting time doing normal things like having fun, eating and sleeping," Yuffie rolled her eyes, heaving herself out of bed in one fluid motion. "Mind if I take a shower?"

"No, no: go ahead." Tifa flopped back against the pillows, her mind working like crazy as she listened non-committedly to the sound of water gurgling in the pipes. Would Cloud really just leave like that? She searched her memory for any signs that something was amiss, though her mental probing came up empty. Cloud was always quiet, and reserved, or at least, he had been ever since he had realised who he really was, and what he had lost.

It had to be Aeris; it always was with Cloud. But what she couldn't understand, was why he had waited this long to take off in search of… whatever he was looking for. A year had passed since Geostigma had been cured by the strange magic in the church- A blessing from Aeris. Tifa had been nothing but grateful of course- anything that kept Cloud alive, and close by was good for her. Though another year had gone by since he'd had the chance to make peace with things, and still now, it was back at square one- the never-ending cycle of guilt, and grief. He should have saved her… he should have been strong enough.

She blamed herself, naturally, for keeping her mouth shut all this time. Barrett had told her she was a pussy, in the nicest kind of way, but she didn't disagree with him. She was a coward, and the thing she feared most was losing him. She'd held on all this time to a long-past promise made under a star-dusted sky, and she had long realised that she just couldn't let go. She had stood by his side through everything; Aeris's death, his descent into near-madness in the Lifestream, meteor, Geostigma… and yet she was only a leaning post, and a very insistent one at that. She was there to push him, to be the support he never really acknowledged, and until now, she had been more than happy to just accept that.

She'd always known that Cloud just didn't _see_ her.

But why, when she'd just come around to the idea that maybe there was life without Cloud, did he have to go and disappear? Ok, now she was probably just getting ahead of herself, she thought, her breathing nearing hyperventilation. He'd just forgotten his PHS, that was all. When he came back, in maybe a day or two, she could yell at him, make him feel bad, and then… things would return to normal?

"You're a fucking mess Tifa Lockheart," She chastised herself, forcing her body to leave the comforting cocoon of her bed and rip back the curtains. No Fenrir outside, no blonde spiky hair. There would be no fierce embraces at the reunion. No passionate admittances of feelings, and there would certainly be no tender, apologetic sex. A gentle squeeze of the shoulder perhaps, or a smile if she was lucky. There never was _anything_ with Cloud.

"What're you looking at?" Yuffie was strolling out of the bathroom, rubbing at her hair with a towel.

She started, turning away from the window. "Oh, nothing." Absolutely nothing.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Reno was pretty damn pleased with himself. He'd managed to pull that super-hot babe last night, the one all the other Turks were ogling at, and not only that, but he was also proving pretty successful at avoiding sunburn. He'd laughed himself hoarse at Rude's peeling head the day before, counting himself damn lucky that his ivory-skin hadn't yet shown any signs of reddening. Ok, maybe a bit of pink on the apples of his cheeks but, hey…

He scowled as the shrill call of his PHS shattered the idyllic silence of the Costa beach. He was out early, to get the best viewing spot of the volleyball court, for obvious reasons. Who the heck could be calling at this time?

"This'd better be good, Reeve," He near-growled, closing his eyes as the warm Costa sun beat down on his face. It wasn't often he got vacation time, after all. As he listened to his former co-worker, he only shook his head. "You're kidding right? Oh, alright, alright, I'll keep an eye out. Only 'cause you asked so damn nice."

He wondered how Tifa was coping with this news, and for a tiny second regretted that he wasn't around Edge to drop by and offer some sympathy. It seemed that job was going to fall to Reeve. He chuckled aloud. "Good luck with that, man."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"I've contacted pretty much everyone one I know on each continent," He explained, pacing his office. Yuffie was getting dizzy watching him. "24hours and no sight of him. This is Cloud we're talking about, so I'm not exactly worried about him-"

"-But more about what it's doing to Tifa!" She pointed out.

Reeve halted in his pacing, running a hand through his hair distractedly. "Well, exactly. Plus, technically he is in my employ. I have reason to want to know his current whereabouts."

"You should visit her." She implored softly, folding her arms across her chest resolutely. "I think she'd want to hear this from you."

"Aren't I just the harbinger of brilliant news." He replied dryly, reaching for his coat regardless.

"You know, you are much hotter when you're not playing Mr. Nice."

"Excuse me?" For a moment, serious-businessman-Reeve was gone, replaced by a man she rarely saw. The man she knew was being pushed down into Reeve's interior. "Did you just describe me as hot?"

"I said hotter. I didn't say what exactly it was you were hotter _than_." She answered, a smirk playing upon her lips.

"A malboro?" He suggested, fastening the clasp of his heavy blue coat.

"That'll do I guess." Yuffie shrugged, before stalking out of the glass doors of his office, swallowed by the hustle and bustle of the Edge WRO HQ. Heaving a sigh, Reeve turned to look out of the huge window behind him, where he could view Edge in all it's entirety. On a clear day, he could see the magnificent ruins of ShinRa tower. Magnificent, because it showed that even a global super corporation could be brought to their knees, and because it was a testament to the sheer power of meteor.

He shuddered at the memory. He'd left the city weeks before, when the shadow of the meteor first appeared in the skies, not long after the attempted assassination of Avalanche. When he'd heard about _that_, he had realised exactly where his true allegiance lay. Consumed by guilt over the Keystone still, he had left the Midgar for good, hoping that Avalanche would accept him aboard their stolen airship.

Striding out of his office, he gave curt nods to all who greeted him in the hallways and stairwells, choosing not to stall along the way. A fresh, morning air greeted his skin as he stepped outside the main entrance, and he noted that May was most definitely getting warmer.

Avalanche were rebels. They weren't innocent by any means, but still, he couldn't justify _not_ helping them. He left the ShinRa building and any affiliation with ShinRa behind him that day, and they accepted him amicably enough. It was good enough for him at the time, but as the years went by, the world still crippled by what ShinRa had done, he realised he needed to do something…

Rufus still had the money, and the men, along with a new desire to make things right; and Reeve had the fresh image, the ideas, and the driving force- and so the WRO was born; and as each day passed, he felt the sense of guilt attached to his old role in ShinRa slowly melting away, replaced by a sense of purpose and a need to make a real difference.

The hour was still early, and he was pretty the sure the bar didn't normally close until maybe a few hours after midnight; perhaps it was a bad time to call, if he was going to disturb her- he doubted her sleep would have been untroubled, to say the least- but then before he could turn aside and head back the way he came, he spotted her form through the glass.

"Reeve." She looked tired, but at least she seemed awake, still wearing her pyjamas. "You're in time for breakfast- I'm making pancakes and I think I overdid it on the mixture," stepping aside to admit him, he crossed the threshold of the bar, inhaling the scent of golden syrup and pancake batter, along with coffee.

She stretched as she shuffled back toward the kitchen in her slippers, Reeve following a couple of steps behind. "I don't have any news yet," He called to her, taking a seat at the table she had set for herself in the bar.

"I guessed as much," she answered a few minutes later, re-emerging clutching two cups of steaming coffee. "You want syrup on your pancakes?"

"Please," he smiled a little sheepishly, and he was pleased to see her face light up a little in response.

"Tut-tut. Sugar addict." She laughed, retreating to the kitchen momentarily. He listened to the sound of the batter sizzling in the pan, his nostrils assaulting by the scent of the butter and the mixture as it cooked. "I feel like I owe you an apology." She began, returning from the kitchen enveloped in the hazy scent of syrup and coffee.

"Whatever it is, I'm positive you don't- thank you." She set his plate down and took the seat opposite him.

"It's just that you went to such an effort the other night and I can't help but feel I ruined the mood."

"Nonsense," he waved a hand dismissively. "You were bound to be upset. I think I can understand that. And besides, the others worked just as tirelessly- Shera almost had a heart attack when I told her. She spent hours making your present apparently." He chuckled, popping a forkful of pancake into his mouth. He had to stop himself from sighing out loud- delicious.

"That's just it- everyone tried so hard to make it special. And it was- I had the best time I've had in a long while. After talking to you about my relationship with Cloud I…" She paused, staring down at her half-empty plate. "I felt guilty. It was as though I wished him away."

"Nonsense." His fingers twitched- an urge to cover her hand with his own that he mentally overrode. Not really appropriate. "I'm fairly sure judging by your calm that you have at least an inkling as to why he left- _If_ he has indeed left at all."

She said nothing for the moment, making a show of finishing her mouthful, though he couldn't ignore the growing sense of dread in his chest cavity when he saw her eyes begin to swim, perfect, crystal clear droplets eventually escaping onto her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she hiccoughed, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her hand. He suddenly didn't feel hungry anymore, and the scent of maple syrup was making him feel nauseous. "I just…" She shook her head, more tears spilling onto her face before she got hurriedly to her feet, jarring the table in her haste, and ran up the stairs.

Reeve stared into the turbulent surface of his coffee, sloshing around in the mug. He listened for a door slamming- a sure sign that she didn't want to be disturbed, though it never came. Steeling himself, he quietly got to his feet and followed her. Her bedroom door was wide open, and he could see her feet dangling from the foot of the bed- she was lying face up it seemed.

He tapped politely on the door frame. "Tifa?"

"You can come in Reeve." She said quietly, not looking up upon his cautious entry. "I'm so sick of this. I can't seem to break away from needing him. I don't want to- I know it's going to end up killing me one day," she laughed morosely. "I just wish for once that he'd _talk_ to me."

"I know enough about Cloud to understand that is not his style. It must be infuriating." He stood in the centre of her room, appraising each surface- he spotted the steel miniature Highwind on her dressing table, and the earrings from Yuffie lying innocently next to her hair brush. Curiously, he turned to face Tifa. The silver bracelet glinted at her wrist.

"It is." She agreed. "If he'd just say where he was going I wouldn't need to worry so much."

"I have contacted the Turks- I know several are posted here and there. They're keeping an eye out."

"Oh, I forgot you'd come here to tell me that," She was sat up now, watching him carefully. "Is there anything else?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. I am due to head into Midgar proper later today," He glanced at his watch. "But all my calls are set to be forwarded to my PHS. As soon as anything happens, I promise you'll be the first to know." She nodded gently, her head resting back against her pillows. "And Tifa?"

"Hm?" Her eyes met his as he approached her tentatively, stopping by the side of the bed.

"Promise me _you'll_ talk to him when he turns up. Tell him he's an idiot for walking out on you, if not from you, then tell him that from me. Don't let your life be ruled by Cloud's emotional turbulences."

"I…" She stared at him, eyes wide, unable to say anything else.

"Or at least tell me you'll punch him?"

Her burst of laughter was almost musical, a sound he liked to hear. "I promise."

"Should I help you do the dishes?"

She shot him a quizzical look, as though she had forgotten such a simple thing as breakfast. "What? Oh, no, you go on ahead, I'm sure you are a busy man." Up on her feet again, she gave herself a scrutinising once over in the mirror.

"I'm never too busy for you," Her eyes met his in the mirror. "If you need me." He added, hoping it sounded less creepy. "Don't trouble yourself, I'll see myself out."

"Thank you, Reeve. I always enjoy your company."

Turning at the door, he graced her with a rare, sincere smile. "The feeling is mutual."

As his footsteps receded along the hall and down the stairs, Tifa wondered why the hell _she_ was still smiling.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He had just put the phone down from a tedious conference call with some business men from Wutai when she entered his office, looking refreshed.

"Tifa, _this_ is a surprise." He placed his elbows upon his desk, lacing his fingers together. "Can I do anything for you?"

She couldn't resist rolling her eyes. "I'm heading into Midgar too- I thought we could go together."

"Oh?" He rearranged the pile of papers before him. "Well of course, I was heading out there in a couple of minutes. Just make yourself at home for a moment- I need to discuss something with my secretary." Tifa assumed he meant the attractive red head seated at a desk immediately outside his office, and she gave an indifferent shrug.

Alone in his office, she made her way over to the dominating window that made up the whole of where the wall should have been, behind his desk. The office was several stories up, so she could still see people going about their business on the streets below. Edge wasn't a particularly built-up area though, to the WRO base at only eight or so stories high towered over most of the buildings here. There hadn't been enough time for anything much more than that to be built, with resources as stretched as they were.

Turning back towards his desk, wondering what it was he was discussing with his obviously over-dressed secretary, Tifa began examining its surface. Neat and orderly, nothing out of the ordinary for Reeve; his name plaque, desktop phone and stacks of paperwork all stacked symmetrically and in line with the desk's edges. She resisted the urge to mess it up a little, to see if he would notice. Then she turned to examine the photograph frames.

One picture was of Reeve, fairly recently she assumed, with a woman she could only deduce was his mother. Still comely, perhaps in her late 50's, with a bright smile and greying-black hair. She could see that Reeve must have inherited his height from elsewhere, though- the smaller woman's head barely reached his shoulder.

In the other picture, she spotted herself immediately, and almost laughed at the memory. It was taken as Cosmo Canyon, probably by one of the locals with Yuffie's camera she recalled, a month or so after meteor. Everyone had been there, the drink had been flowing, and Tifa could safely say that even Vincent had been _wasted_. In the picture, she was being given a piggy back by a grinning Cid. Upon her head was Cid's hat, albeit slightly lopsided, and she was pretty sure she couldn't have looked happier. Beside them, Barrett looked about to burst laughing, and even Cloud was cracking a smile at Yuffie's insistent harassment of Vincent, who looked like he was trying his best to avoid being part of the photo. Reeve himself was seated beside Barrett, leaning around his huge frame to view the group's foolish antics.

She really missed those days.

"Found something?" He was striding back into his office, smiling at the frame in her hands. "Ah."

"You're a sweetie, Reeve," She teased, setting the frame back down. "I didn't know you cared so much."

"Should I offer a sarcastic response or take your slight like a man?" He shot back, ducking under his desk to retrieve a briefcase, into which he placed the pile of papers from his desk.

"Wow, look at you getting sassy with me. I think I like this side of you." She chuckled.

"Funny- that's what Yuffie said this morning." He snapped his suitcase shut.

"What?" She laughed, following him as he strode across the room, ready to leave.

"She said I was 'hotter' when I wasn't being so nice."

"_Yuffie_ said that?" She asked as they passed the receptionist's desk, and moved into the waiting elevator.

"Arguably she did say compared to a malboro, though."

"I think that's being harsh," The elevator hummed as it carried them several floors lower. "I mean, on the malboro that is."

"Well, it's good to know someone's always got my back."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She left him at the gates of sector 5, where she told him she was headed- he didn't ask her further questions, and for that she was grateful. She didn't want to have to start lying to him- He didn't deserve that.

Her brand new steel toe caps were perhaps the best choice of footwear for traversing the rubble-littered terrain of sector 5. She couldn't really say which of the sectors had been hit worse, for she hadn't been to all of them, but she could tell there was still much to be done by way of a cleanup. Reeve was surely still amassing the necessary resources. It certainly wasn't going to happen overnight, anyway.

She kind of liked it this way, though. Part of her enjoyed the places in the world which were wild, part of nature, untouched by man and machine. Here, it was as though nature was starting to take over again. After the destruction of Midgar, pretty much all of the plate had been destroyed, and placed which had not seen the sun since its destruction bathed in its light once more. Plant life was slowly taking a hold in whatever niche and nook it could find. Seeds carried here by the wind meant that she came across flowers she normally wouldn't see until she reached the outskirts of Kalm. There were even a couple of saplings here and there, taking root in the hard-packed soil revealed by upturned concrete. She knew someone who would have liked to see it.

The church was empty, though she had expected that. Cloud may well have stopped by here, whether before a delivery or before he went wherever. It was a place filled with her memory, even Tifa couldn't deny that. The sun glared through a rupture in the felled roof, the light glinting and dancing off the surface of the pool of rainwater. Dust motes drifted lazily in and out of the light beams, and the scent of the flowers that grew there assaulted her nostrils as he stepped inside the creaking wooden doors.

Grit crunched underfoot as she walked slowly down the central aisle, past the broken and shattered pews; some of which were courtesy of her fight with Loz, a year ago. She felt in her back pocket for her gloves, just in case. Stopping once she'd reached the edge of the flower patch, she lowered herself carefully to her knees so as not to crush them. They were fed and watered by the sky- rain and light seemed abundant here, for the flowers never seemed to wilt. In the winter, they died away, never failing to re-sprout in spring, more glorious that the year before.

"I wish… I wish I could just talk to you for just five minutes," She began, reaching out to touch the velvet-like petals of the flowers. "I have so many questions. Like why is he suffering so much, still? Why do you show yourself to him, and yet you never tell him to stop hating himself?" Her hand curled into a fist. "I'm not angry with you, but… sometimes I used to be frustrated with you. You pretended nothing was wrong, and you were always so cheerful. You always knew what to say to make him smile, and laugh, no matter what the situation was. Maybe… maybe that's why he loved you so much."

_You're being silly._

A whisper that seemed to come of a gentle breeze. She could have sworn she caught a flash of pink upon the surface of the water. "Aeris?"

_I'm listening. Always. You were being silly._

"About what? You know how Cloud felt, how he still feels, even if _he_ doesn't." Tifa sighed heavily, brushing at the dirt on her knees. "I just wish I knew what to do."

_You know where he is, don't you? _The sun was getting brighter, oddly, and she raised her arm to shield her eyes. It was as though the roof were gone, the sun beating down strong and warm on her back. _Why don't you bring him back?_

"There's nobody _to_ bring back." She answered, aware of skin brushing hers. Someone kneeling beside her perhaps, watching the flowers too.

_I can't tell him what to feel. Nobody can._

"I... I just want him to _talk_ to me."

_Don't be scared to prod him. He's stubborn, like you underneath. Don't be so tight-lipped, Tifa. _Then a girlish giggle.

"I just wish you were here. At least then…"

_That is not what the planet intended. _A soft hand on hers, cool lips on her cheek. _Be brave, sweet Tifa. For him For me._

"I'll try my best."

Then her warm, bright presence was gone, sending a shudder down her back.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Reeve's day hadn't gone as bad as he had expected. Tifa had taken his news as well as expected, and he was pretty sure he could sense there was something different about their relationship. He didn't feel so out of place anymore- sure, she still made him jittery at times, but what man wouldn't feel that way in the presence of Tifa Lockheart? She _was_ incredibly beautiful, he admitted, as he drummed his fingertips upon his kitchen counter, waiting for his noodles to finish cooking in the microwave. Long hair, so dark it was almost black until the light caught it. If the sun hit her eyes, they almost smouldered, a warm, rich amber. She seemed so delicate at times, a fragile flower, though he knew that anyone who thought that were true was an idiot. She could probably knock out his teeth if she wanted to.

Shaking himself as the device before him insistently beeped, he tugged open the door, cursing as he burnt his fingers on the hot bowl. Why would she look twice at him, the boring businessman-Reeve? She belonged, even if she didn't want to, to Cloud. He had her wrapped around his little finger, so many times, it was unlikely she'd ever get free. Bastard.

After eating, he still had some paper work to fill out, most of it to do with the contract he'd agreed upon with those merchants from Sector 8. He'd have to finish writing that up before he could even think about unwinding.

It must have been about ten when he received the call. Grunting with both annoyance and fatigue, (he'd planned on doing an hour's workout before showering, to knock him dead for the night) he finished his set of 30 pulls ups at the bar screwed between the door frame before he lowered himself down, sweating, to answer the phone.

"Reeve here," He huffed, grasping for a towel to wipe his face. "What do you mean she's not there?" He paused, suddenly unaware of the complaints of his muscles. "Come over in five, Yuffie. We need to discuss this."

Cursing loudly, an outlet he rarely reduced himself to using, he stomped into the bathroom and set the shower going, not bothering to wait for it to heat up.

What the hell was Tifa thinking?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**Please leave me some feedback, don't just favourite guys!**


	4. Conflicts

**This chapter is basically verbal tennis between Reeve and Yuffie, but I enjoyed writing it all the same. Yuffie is the best person for poking Reeve's bubble.**

**I've got chapter 5 written… and all I'm saying is, it's called 'like old times'. And it's my favourites thing. Ever. So don't let me down with reviews, and I can show it to you! **

**Oh, and my profile picture is Tifa's bracelet (or rather, mine).**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

**4. Conflicts**

God, she'd missed this, she thought, inhaling the fresh open air of the meadow; Just wandering from place to place without duties, or responsibilities… Hitching her pack up a little further, she walked on, a smile playing on her face. The boat had taken her to the next continent for a handful of gil, and she'd probably be well on her way to the her destination well before anyone noticed she was gone. Before anyone would try to stop her.

The monsters weren't as tough as she'd remembered- then again, the first time she had left Midgar with Cloud, Barrett and the others, she'd been inexperienced, nowhere near as strong as she was now. She also didn't have the power of Premium Hearts across her knuckles. Her boots were serving her well- no blisters with these, and she could shatter limbs effortlessly. Her first battle had left her hooked on the adrenaline rush, her limbs sweating, jarred by the impact of her enemies suffering her many, well-timed blows. She was born for this.

Her materia rattled in her pocket as she walked. Giving every piece to Yuffie hadn't been her intention, though she relinquished all of the weaker pieces she had accumulated. Equipped in case of emergency was her favourite, mastered piece, Contain.

She had acquired it personally from a particularly friendly white chocobo in her first visit to Mideel, and she hadn't looked back since. It was without a doubt one of the most valuable pieces she owned, and it didn't seem to work as well for the others, in the rare occasion that she loaned it. Maybe it was because that Chocobo had given it to _her_, not them. Also in her pocket was Shiva, a personal favourite- not necessarily the most powerful, but she felt a certain connection with the goddess-like female whose power dwelt within the ruby-coloured orb. Her Restore materia was a given, as well as her Cure, in case of any ill effects she might pick up from monsters, and the usual elemental stuff. As an afterthought, she had packed Life materia- one she dreaded having to use, but more than once it had brought back party members, breath hitching, their heart thudding back into life. She only hoped she wouldn't need it.

Aeris had told her that inside, she must know where Cloud would be, and it was true she had her suspicions; Though of course, where else would he be? It explained why he'd left his PHS behind, too; the idiot had lost it there upon his last visit, after a nasty scuffle with the silver-haired men: The Forgotten City. She had considered leaving her PHS behind as well, though she had thought better of it, and tossed it into the bottom of her pack, switched off. "You never know," she told herself.

Her plan was to hike it there in a little time as possible, find him, drag him out kicking and screaming if need be, then go home. At that thought, she sighed. Back to the bar, sharing a house, and sharing silence. That was no existence. She intended to tell him how she was feeling, about how trapped she felt. Her intention wasn't to increase his guilt, though she knew it only naturally would, but to make him see her side for once.

Judging from the mountain ranges she could make out in the distance, she reckoned she was about a two hours hike from Bone Village. She would stay there for the night, maybe check her PHS, and let whoever would no doubt be badgering her know she was safe, before heading into the forest in the morning.

Her journey was pleasant enough, the sun sinking in the sky warming the left side of her face as she head further north. Bone Village, as usual, was a hive of activity, and her arrival went unnoticed. She booked a standard room in the inn and also ordered that a meal be sent along in an hour or so, to give her time to bathe. The inn keep handed her a key, ironically wrought in the shape of a bone. Charming.

The room was clean, and about as basic as she remembered. Had it been this room she shared with Yuffie that time, on the way to follow Aeris? She couldn't remember now, though she imagined there wasn't really much distinction between one room and the next. Dumping her things at the foot of the bed, she entered the adjacent bathroom and set on the hot tap, thankful that the hot springs here meant there was no shortage of heated water.

Stripping down to her underwear in anticipation of her bath, she rummaged inside her pack for her sleeping clothes, and her toiletries. Then, as an afterthought, she reached in for her PHS.

As she expected, turning on her PHS unleashed a barrage of beeps to announce a list of unread messages, unanswered calls, and a voicemail. Considering she had only left for Bone Village an hour or so after midday, it was a tad excessive. Mindful of the tap still running in the background, she began to trawl through the texts first- about ten from Yuffie all saying pretty much the same thing- where was she, she was going to kill her, bla-bla-bla… then one from the barmaid she'd left in charge for a few days, telling her that Yuffie had called by, and that everything was fine.

Smiling gently, she dialled her voicemail account, padding into the bathroom to keep an eye on the water.

"_Voicemail? Are you serious Tifa?_" Reeve's incredulous tone birthed a burst of spasmodic laughter from her lips._ "What the hell are you doing? Trying to give my hypertension I think. I'll call again later. I just… I just want to know you are safe…_ end of messages._"_

Feeling suddenly guilty, she contemplated calling him there and then, but she resisted. She wondered just how far she could push him, and what he might say then, if she didn't bother to call him at all until she got back. That would have been too cruel for even her, so she settled with a text message.

_I'm fine Reeve, please don't worry about me. Take care, love Tifa. _Short and sweet, and most importantly, to the point. Satisfied, she switched her phone off immediately so he couldn't trace her or something, and tossed it onto the bed before going to get her much needed bath.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He received her message around midnight, Midgar time, though when he tried to call her PHS immediately, the call was unsuccessful. Of, course, he sort of expected that, but still he was infuriated by it.

"Well, at least she's safe," Yuffie sighed, laid out spread eagle on Reeve's living room floor. They'd sort of set up vigil there, and Yuffie had thought to order pizza an hour ago, seeing as his noodles hadn't really satisfied him.

"I suppose so," He agreed, throwing himself down nearby, his back against the sofa. "I just don't understand why, if she knew where he was, she couldn't just tell me. I could have had her on a helicopter in minutes."

"Maybe she wanted to do it for herself," Yuffie suggested, rolling onto her front and resting her shin in her hands. "I think she was going stir crazy in that place."

"She said as much to you?"

"Nah, but I guessed. I get like that sometimes. After the life we led back in the good old days, I suppose running a business must be pretty boring."

"At least it's something stable, something safe," He argued, suddenly feeling as though he were defending his decisions to found to WRO.

"Well, what she had with Cloud was stable. Doesn't mean it was good, right?"

"I see." He lowered his head rubbing at his temples. "The more I hear about Cloud, the more I just want to- I don't know, slap him about a bit."

"Jealous, Reeve?" Yuffie grinned up at him impishly, and he forgot for a moment that Yuffie was nearing her twenty-second year, not her thirteenth.

"Why would I be jealous?"

"I dunno," She shrugged, swinging her ankles above her. "But remember- she let _you_ know she was safe, and didn't even bother to reply to my messages!" The ninja pouted, sensing victory as a smile crept onto Reeve's face. "She's probably feeling bad about it herself. But I guess she had to know she still could get out there and… kick some ass."

"I just can't understand why she still hopes," Reeve sighed, letting his head fall back against the sofa cushions.

"I guess she never really considered before that there were other options. I've been doing my best to, ah, divert her eyes so to speak. Maybe it's not turning out how I had intended, but maybe it is working, after all."

"What do you mean?" He raised his head again to scrutinise the dark-haired girl, currently basking in her own self-satisfaction. "You've been trying to make her date other people?"

"Well, as I understand it, you told her the same thing, right?"

"I- uh…" He grasped for a retaliation.

"It's alright. I know what you _really_ meant," Yuffie snorted. "You may as well have dangled a neon sign above your head saying 'Hey, I'm single too. Why don't we be un-single together?' Jesus, Reeve!"

"I was merely trying to help- she was almost in tears because Cloud forgot her birthday, for heaven's sake!" He protested, doing his best to quash his anger at how easily Yuffie was getting to him, aforementioned Shinobi virtually in tears herself on the carpet. "But I don't think she should spend her life waiting around on someone who doesn't see her. She deserves better than that."

Yuffie wiped at her cheeks, inhaling steadily to calm herself. "Aw, Reeve, I'm just messing with you! for all it's worth, I have been putting in a good word."

"_A good word_?" He repeated, incredulous, his face burning at the thought of whatever it was Yuffie was telling Tifa.

"Don't worry- I've just been prodding her. You know, I think you'd be cute together."

"Cute…" He near-visibly shuddered at the thought that Tifa had to listen to this sort of drabble.

"No, no- I'm serious!" Yuffie had scrambled upright, shuffling toward him on her knees. "Coming from her best friend- no wait- her near enough sister, I think this means a lot- You would be good for Tifa. She deserves someone smart, level-headed and…" She struggled to find another word to describe Reeve, trying her best to avoid telling him he was attractive.

"…Slighter hotter than a Malboro?" He suggesting, eyebrow raised in amusement as Yuffie expression lit up.

"Exactly!"

"Well thanks but… I think you should let her decide for herself. If you are as pushy with her about it as you are being with me… she probably wouldn't even consider-"

"You mean you do like her, then?" Damn, she was like a fat kid in a sweet shop.

"Yuffie…"

"Aw, come on! I won't tell her I promise! Mission confidentiality!"

"No, Yuffie…"

"Pinkie swear?" She suggesting, brandishing said appendage in his face.

"I'm not doing a pinkie swear with you Yuffie."

Yuffie reached for a cushion with lightning speed, setting about beating him around the head. "Aw, you're are such a meanie! I swear to the gods you don't actually have a di-"

"Yuffie!"

"Ok, fine. I'll leave it." She tossed the cushion aside, crawling over to the armchair opposite him, throwing herself back against it with her arms crossed huffily across her chest. "But both of you are never going to get anywhere, the way you act. Both of you never say anything- Tifa most of all. She's too scared to rock the boat. One day, you're going to have to man up, Reeve. You can't want to be single for the rest of your life!"

"I guess I'm just not the type," Reeve shrugged indifferently, toying with a loose thread at his sleeve. Sure, Yuffie had a point. He wasn't likely to say anything to Tifa that could possibly ruin what stability they had, though what exactly _could_ he say, anyway? Well, there _had_ been a little drabble between friends last night, a few harmless, light-hearted comments. Surely none of them could have meant…

"You're not trying to tell me you're gay, are you?" She commented slyly.

"I'm definitely not gay, no."

"Just a robot, then?"

"Are we really going to do this all night?" He chuckled.

"If we must. But I actually have a better idea." She shuffled her feet a bit. "I may have broken security protocol just a _teeny-weeny_ little bit, but I think I might know how to find out where Tifa went." He raised his head, narrowing his eyes at the devious ninja that sat across from him, suddenly abashed.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You did what?" Reeve exclaimed, flitting about his small makeshift office, trying to find where he'd put his PHS adaptor.

"I only installed a tracker. It was pretty easy actually…" She coughed, watching nervously as Reeve tore through several drawers in hope of finding what he was looking for. "She didn't notice I'd borrowed it for a little while- I put it right back."

"But why, pray tell, did you steal premium hearts?"

"I was… she wouldn't give me all her materia, after meteor… I couldn't bring myself to steal them, though in case I needed them, I installed a miniature tracking device in her glove. Wherever _that_ would be, no matter where she tried to hide it, the materia would be also."

"You are one sneaky, backstabbing genius!" He exclaimed, emerging triumphant with the aforementioned PHS cable. "I could kiss you- except it's prohibited by company protocol." He laughed again, before rushing over to start up his computer in his office.

"You know you are scary when you're excited?" Yuffie commented, following him to the doorway of his office, leaning on the frame as she watched him. "And seriously- You are forbidding romance? Jesus, you are such a downer…"

Reeve seated himself at his desk, drumming his fingers as the computer went through it's starting series of loading screens. "Come on…" Once logged into the WRO net, he was able to access the GPS programme he'd helped design back in his ShinRa days. "Ok: Yuffie, what's the tracking code?"

"Um… Y74-622-GH6-TIF-AVA-21D." She recited, earning her a quizzical look from her employer. "What? I gotta know where my prizes are, without the chance that someone else could get there first!"

"What would I know of the mind of a criminal…" He muttered to himself, tapping away at the keys. He was so close to finding her location- then he could dispatch a team, or even perhaps go himself, and then… He paused in his typing, the cursor blinking politely as it awaited his next command.

"Uh, Reeve? What're you doing? Shouldn't you be trying to find Tifa?" She stepped a little closer, studying Reeve's suddenly conflicted expression.

"I don't know if we should do this… Following her, I mean. It's creepy. And-"

"You're worrying what she might think about you, aren't you?" She cut in.

"Well… yes. But not in the way you might think." He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair, staring at the screen blankly. "I know she is safe, and that at least, is enough information to put my mind at rest. There isn't much need to go following her, is there? She obviously didn't want us to know she had left. Besides, she might need time to… to say whatever it is she wants to say to Cloud. I wouldn't want to get in the way."

"But what if she tells him she loves him or something equally stupid? What if they end up getting together?" Yuffie stamped her foot on the floor, her expression desperate and partially horrified.

He half-turned around in his chair, rubbing his temples. "And what if they do? Shouldn't you be happy for your best friend that she finally got what she deserved?"

Yuffie's temper flared. "Don't give me that shit Reeve, you know full well that she deserves a man ten times better than Cloud. Someone you clearly can't step up to be," and with that she spun on her heel, and stormed out of his top-floor apartment, leaving him reeling, still staring blankly at the screen.

Yes, he was doing the right thing, but even so, he had been left feeling rather hollow after Yuffie's scathing remark. Her previous words were still running around inside his mind, until he was fairly certain he was going to develop a rather nasty headache any time soon. He shouldn't have let Yuffie talk to him like that, but he'd always had a soft spot for the ill-tempered young Ninja. He'd come to see her as a cousin, albeit a very irritating one, and he didn't like arguing with her; but the kid was so damn persistent at times, it was hard to just let it wash over him.

Perhaps she was right, though, at least when she had said he couldn't want to be single all of his life. He was pretty much a hypocrite for even suggesting to Tifa that she go and meet new people, in hope of letting go of Cloud. He had never felt anything real with a woman before, and tied up with saving the world and starting his own global organisation, finding something had taken a backseat. What could he offer her anyway, whoever she could be; only 20% of his time? His probable lack of experience? He chuckled somewhat bitterly as he set his fingers upon the keyboard once more, hesitating only for a few moments before typing in his commands.

_Current Location co-ordinates downloading… … …_

He punched in the longitude and latitude values that his scan had produced, waiting for the system to process them.

_Target Location: Bone village, The Dustbowl Inn._

Well, she was safe, fed, and probably sleeping, he thought, looking upon the grainy satellite image on-screen of the rooftop of the inn. Knowing that, he should sleep easier himself.

He shut down the system, before going about the apartment systematically turning off all the lights. In the darkness, the lights of Edge were marvellously bright outside his window. He crossed over to it, sighing heavily as he tried to empty his mind of turbulent thoughts. There weren't many vehicles around, nor probably anywhere in Gaia anymore- there just weren't enough resources to stably support them, though only the rich or essential businesses were able to run them- as a result of this, the nights were always silent here. The streetlamps were powered by small generators underneath the city, running on geothermal energy- a technique he had invested a lot of the WRO budget into perfecting. It wasn't as efficient as Mako, but at least it wasn't slowly killing the planet.

He felt like he should be proud; he wouldn't say it out loud, but he felt like Edge was his. Not in the sense that he owned it and wished to dominate it, but he had made it what it was- a quiet and safe town where people could start rebuilding their lives, shattered by Meteor. He wished that the same could be said for every town in Gaia. Looking over it now, though, he felt no pride at all.

He'd heard someone say (probably Yuffie now he came to think of it), that behind every great man was an equally great woman. If he were to look behind him now, all he would see was dark empty space. There was no woman, and certainly no family. His mother had died just over a year ago now, from Geostigma. His hands curled into fists at the memory. He'd not really had the chance to make amends with her, though he had managed to see her at least, before her death. That was when he had met Denzel.

His hands relaxed. Tifa had no idea it was Reeve who had sent Denzel to her- he had perhaps rather selfishly relied on her good nature, on her instincts and her motherly tendencies, and sure enough, Denzel was soon somewhere safe, getting the care he deserved. Tifa had thought nothing of it of course, and Cloud hadn't said a word, just like he promised Reeve.

After Geostigma, Denzel hadn't wanted to leave Marlene's side, and he had accompanied her to Corel with Barrett. After all, it was probably best that children were around other children. The young boy seemed to hold a certain ex-SOLDIER in high regard, Reeve remembered. Probably not the best figure to idolise growing up. He didn't deny Cloud was strong, and a hero, but still… Children needed to be children, not quiet, introspective loners.

Heaving a sigh, he turned away from the view he wasn't really seeing to retire to bed, shedding his clothing dispassionately and lying rather stiffly between the cold, crisp sheets. He couldn't help but replay his argument with Yuffie over in his head. Did he always come across as cold? Maybe he should try to lighten up a little; he recalled how at Tifa's party, both Cid and Barrett had remarked he was coming slowly out of his shell. Maybe he should try and get involved more, socialise…

But work often called for his attention, more than any woman, friends or hobby. He couldn't justify not devoting himself entirely to his cause; that wouldn't help him achieve what he had set out to do… but could he really do it in his life time? Probably not, he told himself, turning the pillow over in hopes that it would help him slip into a comfort-induced sleep. He needed people he could trust to follow in his footsteps, to continue his dream, like an apprentice, or even perhaps, if he had a son…

The spasmodic, bitter laugh came rather unexpectedly. Him, have children? He doubted he ever would. Perhaps he should start training an apprentice soon, should something happen within the next few years. He laughed again, wondering what Yuffie would say if she knew just how much on the side of morbid his thoughts had turned.

"You know, it's creepy laughing on your own in the dark."

"Yuffie!" He bolted upright, staring into the darkness blindly. "I thought you left!"

"Na, I was just wondering if you'd do anything stupid while you thought I was gone. You disappoint me, Reeve." He squinted in the burst of light from his bedside lamp.

"You are one weird young woman, and I should by rights fire you…. creeping around in my house." He was thankful he'd not _completely_ undressed before getting into bed, though he tucked the sheets a little tighter around his waist as he sat up.

"You know you'd never do that," Yuffie was stood in the doorframe, slender arms crossed resolutely, her green eyes dancing with mischief. "If only the ladies knew what they were missing!" She nodded at him, and he felt slightly abashed, covering his body defensively. So what if he worked out nearly every night? It's not like he had anything else to do- he could read several employee profiles whiles doing press ups, and it's not as if he had any other way to let off steam… "Listen- do you mind if I crash here tonight? I'll even make you breakfast in the morning."

"Um, sure… whatever." He shrugged. "There's blankets in the closet over there."

She trudged over to said closet, and began to route away inside. He flinched, hoping she wouldn't knock an of the shirts off of their hangers- he wouldn't want to have to press them again… "Jesus Reeve, do you actually own anything else besides your WRO uniforms?" She exclaimed, emerging triumphant with blankets and pillow in her arms, her hair tousled from the rummaging.

"Uh, not really. I guess I never really get the chance to wear anything else…" He trailed off, knowing full well how pathetic he sounded.

"You know, we're friends, and I go shopping with friends." She slid the closet door shut behind her, though she didn't budge from her spot by the end of his bed. "I'd go with you if you needed help picking stuff out…"

"Are you trying to apologise?" He asked, aghast, grinning at the sudden bashfulness Yuffie displayed.

"I didn't mean that you weren't good enough for Tifa. I was just mad at you for being so damn complacent."

"I understand. I get mad at myself sometimes." He smiled warmly, an indicator that all was forgiven. "And I have breakfast at 7.30. I am expecting pancakes, too."

"Aw man!" Yuffie groaned, trudging out of his room towards the sofa, pulling the door shut behind her. "Goodnight Reeve." She shouted back.

"See you tomorrow, Yuffie," He called in response, before shutting off his bedroom light once more.


	5. Like Old Times

I've been really excited about this chapter for a while- I've actually had it written for well over a week, so it's been a real test of my restraint to hold off posting it! Well, enjoy it, and please leave me some feedback. Let's just say I don't write battle scene's often. At all, come to think of it…

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Now my inner dialogue is heaving with detest__  
__I am a martyr and a victim and I need to be caressed__  
__I hate that you negate me, I'm a ghost at beck and call__  
__I'm failing and placating, and berating myself for staying__  
__I'm a fool; I'm a fool_

Sia- Sweet Potato

**5. Like Old Times**

The air beneath the trees was still and cool, she thought, shuddering a little as she rubbed at her arms, covered in goosebumps. She'd slept relatively well, though she had risen just before the dawn, to minimise the risk of perhaps missing Cloud en route, should he be leaving. She didn't think there was much danger of that, though. Had she not realised he wasn't on a delivery, she probably wouldn't have thought anything was amiss until perhaps another day or two. Deliveries to Junon, or Cosmo took a day or two each way, if the conditions were bad.

The fresh-morning sunlight filtered in through the canopy overhead, the light play on the floor dancing as the branches swayed in the gentle breeze. Echoing in the distance, she could hear the strange tap-tap of a woodpecker, and the gentle bubbling of a stream. A few fallen leaves drifted in lazy spirals down to the forest floor where they lay, undisturbed.

She had reserved the room at the inn for another two nights, leaving her pack behind, so the extra weight would not impede her. She carried all she would need on her person to get her to the city of the ancients and back to Bone Village before sundown; Premium hearts, her materia, her ribbon, and her PHS. Just in case…

She encountered nothing in the forest, though it would have surprised her if she had. Five years ago, the magic of the forest had slowly begun to fade; perhaps something to do with Holy, though she couldn't say for sure. Still, men at Bone Village had given her their customary warning- those who passed through here may fall asleep, and never awaken. That were true, though not for her, nor any other member of their group, she suspected. They had found the harp once, and it was as though the magic lingered, or as if the forest remembered them, and knew they would not dare commit harm whilst under its protective enchantment.

It took her an hour or so to walk through, using her compass to ensure she was always travelling north- even with the lingering magic of the harp, it was easy to get lost amidst the near-identical boughs of trees, stretching for as far as the eye could see. It seemed that no matter how far one walked, the bubble of the stream never got louder, nor did it fall silent. An illusion, she thought, swallowing down her swell of panic, and the biting fear of her mild claustrophobia. She was safe… don't linger, and keep heading North…

Then all of a sudden, she was out of the trees before shed even noticed a change in the light, blinking stupidly in the sunshine. Squinting, she gazed ahead at the path she was to take- a beautiful, desolate waste of dried up wood and strange shrubs, not to mention the weird monsters that resided here. She had a few fights along the way, though after a while, they decreased in frequency and ferocity; perhaps the creatures thought her too much for them to handle, or maybe they too were aware that she meant this sacred place no harm.

She was breaking out into a sweat climbing the strange, colossal shell husks, glad that she had opted to leave her pack behind; with it, she would have surely overbalanced and done herself some real damage on the sharp rocks below. When the sun was in its third hour, beating down on the back of her neck, she arrived at the City gates as it were, gazing down onto the strangely beautiful remnant of an ancient civilisation. She wanted to wander around a little, and soak up some of the magic of the place; after all, it had been a while since she had visited, and it would probably be longer still until she found the chance or need to come here again, but she stopped herself. She was here to find Cloud. Everything else came second.

She set off along what she supposed would have been the main street, her boots kicking up dislodged gravel from the walkways. She was almost there, and yet she found herself dawdling. She should probably get a move on, if she planned on heading back by sundown…

Taking a deep breath, she set off at a jog, heading in toward the dense collection of strange trees and rock formations, unable to help holding her breath as she passed beneath their cool canopy. So many memories here, ones she didn't like revisiting. She pressed her hand to the phantom wound that burned across her chest, one that had healed years ago… yet when she thought of that sword, the memory of the pain came rushing back…

She pushed it to the back of her mind, the way she had taught herself out of necessity; once, the nightmares were almost daily. Now, she rarely suffered.

She took the crystal stairs down to what she liked to think of as the citadel; the centre-most, ethereal sector of this forgotten city. The sunlight bouncing off the water of the pool below was further refracted by the crystalline walls, tiny little rainbows dancing in her peripheral vision. Sighing with relief as her feet found solid ground once more, she glanced over to the central platform, the place where Aeris had taken her last breath… and smiled when she saw him.

"Tifa?" He was seated on one of the stepping stones, boots off, pants rolled up, so he could dangle his feet in the water. He made to move, but she shook her head, instead coming closer and taking a seat on the step nearest him. "How did you…"

"I'm not stupid," She told him. Then she fished around for the object in her pocket- His PHS. Tifa almost laughed at his expression obviously slapping himself mentally on the head. "You have a voicemail."

"You came out here to tell me I have _voicemail_?" He considered her suspiciously, though when she gravely shook her head, he gave her the benefit of the doubt, dialling regardless.

She could still hear Reeve's message from where she was seated._ "Cloud? Shit… What a time to not answer your damn phone. I don't even know why I gave you the newest model… Well, listen: If you get this, head back to Edge ASAP. You're missing out on someone's birthday. And I think she'll be pretty let down if you are the only one to not make it. Reeve out."_

She watched his face change as he absorbed the content of Reeve's message, contorting into a sort of pained wince. "You… I… I picked the wrong time didn't I?" He shook his head slowly, staring at his open PHS. "I'm sorry… I should have known."

"What did you pick the wrong time to do Cloud? Why did you come here?" She disregarded his apology for now, turning to address her more burning questions.

"I just… I… I don't know." He shook his head slowly, haunting cerulean eyes considering her sorrowfully. "I just needed to be here… to... When I'm here, it's easier to breathe, to just... remember how things used to be… I thought this place would be full of bad memories but… I guess I just feel at peace here. It's where Aeris joined the planet."

"She told me off, you know?"

"She did?" His mouth quirked at that, perhaps feeling he was off the hook for now, swirling his feet in the water.

"I really needed to ask her help. I just…" Tifa sighed heavily, staring at her folded hands. "I wish things had been different."

"So do I, Tifa." He reached for her hand then, squeezed it between him. "I'm sorry about your birthday… I honestly didn't realise… I'll make it up to you, I swear."

She shook her head. "It's ok, Cloud. All I wanted was for you to at least talk to me. If you're sad, I can always listen. You know I'd understand."

"It's not that easy though is it? I wish I could talk to you, Tifa. It'd make my life easier but… I wouldn't want to… to hurt you. to burden you with…" -with the truth of how he felt… or didn't feel. She knew what he wasn't saying.

"It's ok. I know what it's like; not to want to change things; to ruin what peace there is." Whatever is left behind, fragile and precariously draped over an unsure existence. "But actually, I wanted to say… I think it would be best if you moved out." She felt his hand twitch over hers.

"If that's what you want, I will."

"I'm not trying to make things more distant between us, I just… I need some room to grow. And with you there… I can't." He lowered his head, his fingers grasping hers almost painfully. The guilt he felt suddenly came bubbling to the surface, and she noted his shoulders were shaking a little.

"I'm sorry."

"_Stop_ saying that, Cloud! How long is it going to take you to realise that I… that _we_ don't want you to be sorry." He raised his head, and she almost crumbled at the sight of a single tear on his perfect cheek. "We only want you to be honest to yourself. You have to accept that the people around you love you, and you deserve to be loved."

He shook his head adamantly. "I knew. I knew the whole time how you felt. But still I… I was so selfish. I didn't see what it was doing to you. You know, Aeris… the last time we talked, she said… I should take care of you. And I tried the only way I knew I could, and still live with myself afterward. I worked hard to make sure you didn't need anything, I thought… I thought staying with you was what you wanted. I never knew-"

"Cloud…" She shushed him, edging around to sit nearer to him, tilting his face upward. She placed a gentle kiss on the side of his mouth, and though she felt her heart flutter in her chest, she didn't let the butterflies make it to her stomach. Everything made a little more sense now- his actions had never been selfish, but rather a promise to Aeris (that shouldn't have surprised her, really). He'd tried to be there for her in the only way he knew how. But it hadn't been enough, It hadn't been how she'd dreamt it should be, and he knew it. "Let's go home."

A ghost of a smile passed his lips. "But everyone will be mad at me."

She laughed then, scrambling to her feet and hopping from the stepping stone to solid ground. "What are you, seven? You'll have to face Marlene's wrath sooner or later."

He chuckled softly, rising and following in her wake. "So, Reeve threw you a party? How did he know it was your birthday?"

"I might have mentioned it." She ensured she faced dead ahead, hoping Cloud wouldn't notice her flush.

"It was nice of him, to do that for you." She answered his questions about her party, reciting the amusing anecdotes of how drunk Cid was, and how Yuffie had faked her drink being spiked, and she realised that her admissions to him in the capital had lifted a weight free of her mind. She felt like she was his childhood friend again, not just a shadow who loved him. The way they talked, it was just like the early days; the best days.

"We can take Fenrir though the forest," Cloud stopped as they exited the cover of the trees, looking over the ruined city that lay before them. "I left it in a building up ahead."

"Well, I have a room reserved at the inn," she told him, following his lead as he made his way down the ghostly streets. "But if we took Fenrir, we'd be back a lot sooner than I had anticipated. Damn; I was planning on keeping Yuffie squirming for at least another day."

He looked back at her, taking a left down a narrow alley. The windows of the houses around them gaped dark and empty. "You didn't tell her you were coming?" He frowned a little.

"She would've tried to talk me out of it, probably. Plus, she would have roped Reeve into sending a team after me or something."

"I take it she's pissed at me?" He groaned a little, stepping into a doorway of a house wherein Fenrir stood, an object so out of place in its surroundings, it made her chuckle. It seemed Cloud wasn't impressed by the prospect of having to deal with an angry Yuffie.

Seashells had been poked into the mortar of the bricks that made up the walls, and the floors were dusted with sand. Fenrir was leant against a wooden beam that looked to be made of driftwood. First Tsurugi, Cloud's sword, was laid out on the sand.

"Only a little. I can't promise she won't yell at you when you see her."

"-And what about Reeve? He sounded… irritated on the phone."

"I'm not sure, I guess. He' s a little harder to read that Yuffie."

Cloud began to reassemble the blades that made up his precious sword- it looked as though he had cleaned them, leaving them out to dry on the sand. It made a resounding click as he secured it into its holster on Fenrir. "Well, I suppose we'll find out soon enough."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It felt good to be out in the open, air whistling past her ears as track vanished quickly beneath Fenrir's monstrous tyres, her hair whipping about her face like a flag. She chosen to hold on to the bar behind her, and not place her arms around his waist; after all, it was probably not the best idea to do that, after everything.

They left the forest behind them, a blur of green and silence, stopping only briefly so that Tifa could collect her things, and cancel the room reservation. The air was definitely cooler this far North, rushing past her ears and making them ache with the cold, so she looked forward to the more temperate climate of the main continent.

The ferry was a pleasant two hours or so at sea in which she and Cloud spent sat cross-legged up one deck, attracting rather a few curious stares- mainly because of the terrifying blade Cloud kept laid out before him. Then, as the ship's horn sounded, heralding their approach to land once more, they made their way below decks, ready to disembark. Heading in land, the air was certainly warmer, and she revelled the sensation of warm breeze against her skin, able to wander in her own thoughts, seated on the back of Fenrir. They were an hour's ride from Midgar by now, she imagined, and the noisy engine rumbling below her didn't really leave much room for any conversation. She may as well enjoy the thinking time if offered her; like what was she going to say to Yuffie, or even Reeve, should he confront her about her sudden departure.

She'd turned on her PHS upon reaching land. She wondered how long it would take one of them to trace it.

"Hey Tifa!" Cloud yelled over his shoulder, the sunlight glinting from his sunglasses. "We've got some company!"

She peered over his shoulder, scanning the open plains that spanned before them. Sure enough, as Fenrir slowed, she could distinguish an outline of _something_, heading their way. Cloud did seem to have the nose for monsters- a perk of the Mako, at least.

"What is it?" She asked, hopping off Fenrir as is growled to a stop, reaching into her back pocket for her gloves. Sliding onto her hands, they were a second skin, a part of her she couldn't live without. The power of the materia within them surged up through her.

"They shouldn't _be_ this far south. It's a Malboro." He said after a moment, turning to raise a brow as his companion started to giggle.

"I'll explain later." Her humour was gone in an instant, replaced by her well honed battle mask. The creature seemed to slow as it considered them, now within a hundred yards or so of their stopping point, slimy green tentacles undulating in a weird, sinusoidal manner.

Cloud's sword hissed as he drew it from its holster on Fenrir, as if it were hungry for blood. "This could be tough. No doubt the thing is desperate, this far from home. You have Ribbon?" She nodded abruptly, patting her arm where the pink strip of silk flapped in the breeze. It would offer her protection against the sometimes fatal status attack of the malboro which made it such a formidable foe. Just one of them, though, and in such an open fighting space… It shouldn't be too difficult.

Boots thudded on compact earth as Cloud began to rush forward for the attack, the point of First Tsurugi trailing a sharp line in the dirt behind him. The monster considered it's would-be attacked with its oddly spaced eyes, grotesque red lips parting. Bad Breath. Great. Cloud managed to duck out of the way of the attack, his blade singing as it arced around to make contact with a sickening squelch. The malboro's roar was unlike anything she had heard.

Setting off at a sprint, her palms warming with energy from her charging Flare spell, Tifa readied herself to shift at any moment, should the beast prepare another attack. She didn't really fancy being covered in that disgusting foul-smelling gas, Ribbon or not. It seemed Cloud was keeping it occupied though, so she angled her approach to its blind side, where her close proximity attacks would be more effective. "Stand back!" She yelled, her entire body now near-burning, though she did not feel pain.

Cloud registered her warning, embedding First Tsurugi into the flank of the monster before kicking off from the sword's hilt, his body sailing through the air with effortless, gravity-defying ease. He skidded to a stop fifty yards away, dust flying into the air. Satisfied he was out of harm's way, she allowed the heat in her body to be channelled to her hands. tendrils of flame, harmless to her, coiled around her arms, culminating in one, massive white-hot ball of energy between her quaking hands. The creature had had enough time at least to turn, its gaping red-rimmed mouth widening, the tell-tale scent a threat of its impeding attack. "Eat this."

The fire ball shot from between her palms, covering the short distance between woman and beast in the blink of an eye. It was as if the malboro had swallowed it, though she knew better. A fraction of a second later, and a wave of heat, like which she had never known before with any other fire spell, engulfed her, blasting her sweat-soaked hair away from her equally sweat-soaked skin. The creature wailed, though it's cry was lost amidst the unmatched roar of the flames, consuming it completely.

When the fire was gone, all that remained of the Malboro was a scorched patch of earth. That, and the sword Cloud had left embedded within it, now quivering in the ground.

"Nice." He appraised, giving the sword hilt a testy poke, before deeming it cool enough to tug out of the ground.

"I've been dying to use it," she admitted, taking a moment to look down at herself, covered in soot (and presumably incinerated Malboro particles). "Ugh. Do I smell of malboro?"

"Um… I don't think so." cerulean eyes narrowed suddenly, his head tilting to the side, considering something. "I don't believe it… we have more company."

"What is it this time?" She sighed, as though she had been told she had to go back up stairs for a forgotten item. Monsters were so dull, sometimes. Then again, it did feel good to be this sweaty again.

"Just our luck. It seems out Malboro was trying to escape from…"

"Don't say the Midgar Zolom," her face fell. Defeaters of Sephiroth or no, a Midgar Zolom was no easy task. At his grave nod, she screwed her face up is disbelief. "What the hell is one of those doing all the way out here?" She shielded her eyes against the glare of the afternoon sun, right in her peripheral vision.

"I heard Reeve mention something about Mako having a part to play in it." Cloud shrugged, taking a resolute breath just as a dark shape could be seen, slithering toward them.

"Shit, shit, shit…" She hopped from foot to foot, anxious despite herself. Taking down one of these guys was hard enough with three. But with two…

"Just keep cool." He said. Then, "Oh. We have back up."

"Huh?" She quickly scanned their surroundings.

"Helicopter. About three clicks south of here. Coming from Edge, I'd guess."

"Reeve…" She muttered. What excellent timing…

"Let's get this over with, then. And you might be needing this," A scrape of steel-on-steel as Cloud split First Tsurugi into three parts, placing one, lighter blade in her hand. Of course, fists weren't much good against Zolom hide.

They set off at a run together, each charging their respective spells as they went. Tifa felt a warmth budding inside her, then a burst of energy seemed to bloom from within; tell-tale of a haste spell. They splintered off as they approached the Zolom, Cloud to the east, and Tifa to the west. The creature was more prone to mistakes when taken from different sides. Her still-charging spell set her hair on end- another spell she had mastered from her Contain materia. The skies above them, once bright and airy, typical of a spring afternoon, suddenly darkened. The pressure dropped, and the air suddenly felt heavier, thick with charge. She hoped the pilot, whoever it was, was smart enough to hold off on their approach until after the effects of Tornado had faded.

The cloud's were almost black now, First Tsurugi's song lost amidst the rumble of thunder. She'd cast Wall on Cloud, to ensure the spell didn't affect him, too. The Spell cast, building above, Tifa conjured what basic sword knowledge she had, from practising with wooden Kendo swords in her training. Her hair whirling about her, she drove forward, kicking up dust as she went, the blade arcing through the air, cutting through the outer layer of the creature's hide, black fluid oozing from the permeations. No good- she'd need to keep at it.

Barely managing to leap over the Zolom's thrashing tail, she skidded to a halt meters from where she landed. In a blinding flash of fork lightning, the magnificent creature was illuminated. Black and red scales, white fangs the length of both her legs…

Cloud's swords were dancing; two blades, one in each hand, whistling through the air. Though he couldn't maintain his assault; his assailant was coiling, a sure sign of an impending strike. A strike that could knock even him cold, or at least dizzy long enough to do so real damage. He couldn't risk that.

Hit feet hitting the ground, he set off at a sprint, aware of the storm cloud's broiling ahead, the lighting storm keeping the beast occupied for now, The bangs of thunder were throwing it off target, it seemed, long enough for him to reach Tifa.

"Get up there. I'll give you a boost." She barely gave it a second thought, bracing her foot in Cloud's clasped palms before she was effortlessly launched into the air- courtesy of Cloud's mako-enhanced strength and a float spell. The world in her vision spun, her arms crossed over her chest, to make her trajectory more accurate. As she righted her orientation, she spotted something in her peripheral vision; the faint blur of a black helicopter.

No time for that now.

She let her arms loose, drawing back her fist to fire off a few high-level Fire spells, while she still had the element of surprise. Falling toward the ground faster now, she readied her fists. The Zolom barely registered her, but as her feet made contact with its head, it's fangs bared themselves, glinting ferociously. Turning, she connected another aerial roundhouse, before reaching for the blade strapped across her back, delivering an arching uppercut as she fell ever downward. Black blood rained down on her.

Bones jarring from the impact of hitting ground, but with no time to linger, she set off at a run again, aware of a new sound; a strange, resonant whistle-like something whizzing through the air. A flash of silver caught her eye- was that a Shuriken?

Yuffie.

Grinning, yet still aware of the Zolom's cry a little too close behind her, she quickened her pace. "Cloud!" He glanced up from where he was currently trying to hack off the end portion of the Zolom's tail. "Sword! Run!" She tossed the blade to him with a grunt, and he caught it effortlessly, slotting it back into place with practised ease.

Not a moment to catch their breath, they could only watched as the Zolom reeled, apparently disorientated. "I think Yuffie took an eye out." She remarked.

"You'd better believe it, bitch!" a stomp of boots on the ground. She turned, smiling as the ninja appeared before her, dropping down from the now-directly overhead vessel, stood with one hand on her hip, the other gripping the glistening shuriken the rested on her shoulder. "Yuffie Kisaragi never misses a shot! What's that Reeve?" She pressed her hand to her earpiece. "Gotcha! Right- Reno wants to push the big red button. Get out of there!" She yelled at them, waving her free arm, before setting off at a run.

Tifa turned on her heel after her, her limbs working like they hadn't been forced to in a long while. They passed under the shadow of the helicopter, the whirring of its blades audible to her for the first time. She didn't turn to find out how far away the Zolom was- most likely too close- and she didn't stop until the impacted shockwave of a projectile missile sent her, Cloud, and Yuffie sprawling into the dirt.

She lay still, her limbs in a tangle with her battle-mates, her breathing laboured by hysterical laughter and adrenalin combined. Man, it felt good to kick ass. The friends lay there for a while, revelling in their apparent safety, as the helicopter touched down a hundred yards away.

"You!- are fucking _mental_!" Yuffie was the first to extract herself from the tangle, having been on the top, dusting her favourite battle outfit down. Thankfully she'd thought to toss her Shuriken aside, to save skewering one of them.

The down thrust from the helicopters rotary blades were pretty much enough force to keep Tifa grounded, though Cloud's heavy form partially squashing her probably wasn't helping. He scrambled to his feet, muttering an apology, dusting down his trademark black jumpsuit.

She sat up at least, in time to see Reeve step out of the helicopter, his black hair drifting about his face from the tail rotor's air current.

"-I mean, I can't believe it! First, you don't even call me, and then you start picking fights with Zoloms!" Yuffie blundered on, unaware of her boss stood behind her, arms folded over the front of his WRO uniform.

"There was a malboro, too." She added from the floor where she still sat, giggling feebly. "- and I gotta say, this one made Reeve look positively god-like."

That caused a tremor at least, but no smile yet. He reached out a hand to her, to help her off the ground. She glanced at her open palms- bloodied, sooty, and sweat-soaked. Yep, he was asking for it. She grasped it firmly, registering his grimace as he heaved her upright. "It's good to see you both safe." He said after a moment, nodding rigidly to Cloud. She noted he was itching to wipe his hand on something.

"Man, that was awesome!" Reno, stuck his head out of the open door of the helicopter, his absurd red hair flying this way and that. "You guys rocked. And Tifa- I love seeing you fly through the air like that. Totally my thing, you know. Flying chicks."

Reeve rolled his eyes. "We should head back. I have many things which require my attention back at the WRO headquarters."

"Are we in trouble?" Tifa frowned, following as Yuffie and Cloud turned to head towards the helicopter.

"No." He replied curtly, though she noted he didn't look directly at her.

"Reno, I'm going shotgun. I love flying." She met his gaze for only a second with a defiant glare before hauling herself into the cabin, and clambering into the passenger seat beside the pilot's. Cloud offered Reeve a shrug, before taking a seat in the back.

Reeve could only sigh as he shut the door behind him, buckling himself into the seat across from Yuffie. So much for a _thanks for the pickup_…

"So you like big snakes?" Reno was saying, as he angled the helicopter forward once airborne, leaving the smoking husk of the Zolom behind.

"I'm not really sure what you mean," Tifa replied, though she knew full well where a conversation with Reno would end up. In the gutter, usually.

"Well, I was just gunna say… I got one in my pants, if you're interested."

She laughed despite herself, not really hearing Reeve's dejected sigh. "Alright, I'll give that one to you, Reno."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	6. Life

**Right, so here is the next chapter. Please, New favouriters- review. I don't know how else I can convince you to do so. Think of it as stealing my food, but then not eating it.**

**So, as promised, some drama! **

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

**6. Life.**

For the next few days, she was kept pretty busy at the bar. Her barmaids had agreed to take the slack for the time she was away, and so she was returning the favour. Opening at nine, she would be serving customers until gone two in the morning. Then, with a heavy, yet grateful sigh, she would shout for last call. The bar devoid of patrons, she was free to clean up after them, until she had either finished, or until she was too exhausted to continue.

Cloud had taken her words very seriously, and had immediately found himself new apartments a few blocks away, from where he could run his business alone. She made him promise to visit once in a while, and that she would in turn give him the occasional free drink. So far, he'd kept his side of the bargain, dropping in the night before to help her with closing, having just arrived back from a delivery in Junon.

"So, have you heard from Reeve, yet?" Cloud was slumped at the bar upon one of the stools, swirling a beer bottle in his hands as he studied her, wiping at a particularly stubborn sticky spot on the bar's surface with avid vigour.

"No," she huffed, blowing her hair back from her face. "I expect he's been pretty busy."

The news on TV recently had been pretty disturbing. Something about people in Midgar suddenly hearing screams from the husk of the ShinRa building. Reeve had dispatched teams immediately to check it out; He'd never dismiss omens like that, especially where ShinRa was concerned. He didn't even bother to try and hush the media. He and his company had nothing to hide from the world, he was known for saying, and it was his wish that the atrocities of ShinRa never be repeated.

The team had discovered an entrance to what appeared to be an underground Science facility, if the blueprints Reeve managed to find could be considered accurate. There and then, the doors had been prised open, and a small WRO unit followed by several reporters had entered.

A day later, and still no sign of them.

She imagined he wouldn't have time to make a trivial visit to her, especially at a time like this, and so she didn't hold it against him. Upon their landing back at the WRO base in the helicopter, he had been greeted upon disembarking by a waiting anxious intern, shadowed by his secretary. Before she had even had the chance to speak with him, to thank him for coming to rescue them in the Midgar wastes, he had been presented with an apparently worrying clipboard, and had rushed off inside the building with only a backward apology directed vaguely at her.

Her nuances and complaints would most definitely have to wait. She was a master at keeping things filed away, after all. She could manage a little begrudging, after all she'd had to deal with.

"Hm. I might hold off on deliveries for a few days. In case… he needs help." Cloud shifted in his seat, staring into his beer bottle pensively. "These labs… I don't like the sound of it."

She ceased scrubbing the bar for now, tossing the dish rag in the vague direction of the sink. Her feet shuffled across the wooden floors as she joined him, swinging her barstool around. "I don't like it either. But… Vincent's on the case. I think if there's anyone who could get the job done, it's him. If the rumours are true, and this is… Hojo's doing… then, Vincent will handle it."

"I suppose. There were others who suffered because of Hojo. Zack, Aeris, Nanaki…"

"- and you." She reminded him softly. "Don't worry. I'm sure Reeve has gone everything under control. I may even stop by his office tomorrow, see if there's anything we can do."

Cloud nodded, his irregular blonde spikes of hair swaying as he moved. "That's a good idea. Well, I'd better get some sleep if I'm to be any use to Reeve at all." She knew that wasn't really a valid excuse for Cloud- he didn't need sleep as much as the normal person. She didn't pick him up on it though; she needed the sleep too, after all. For once the bar was all clean, and she could indulge in a sleep in tomorrow morning.

"Well I'll catch you sometime soon," She squeezed his shoulder gently at the door, before locking up behind him. Stretching and yawning as she shut off the lights, Tifa couldn't have been looking forward to bed more if she tried. Stripping off her sticky alcohol-soaked clothes and donning her softest and oldest nightdress, she clambered in-between her cool sheets, wondering what she could say to Reeve tomorrow, if she were lucky enough to catch him in his office.

_Damn you, Mr Tuesti. You sure know how to keep a woman awake at night_. Chuckling into her pillow, she drifted off into what she prayed would be a relatively undisturbed sleep.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

That morning, she woke with a lasting sense of loss, heavy on her shoulders and bitter on her tongue; something to do with a dream full of spectral manifestations which she could no longer place, now safe and warm in the waking world, though their cold silence still lingered in her mind. Shuddering, and hoping that a warm shower would dispel it, she trudged toward her bathroom, limbs still clumsy and slow.

Emerging from the shower, and seating herself at her dresser, she regarded her absent-looking reflection in the mirror. Her room was too quiet, and too empty. Why today did she suddenly feel so lonely? Sighing, she began the task of combing out her near-waist length hair. She'd have to get this cut soon; it was slowly beginning to get too much again.

Glancing at the clock, she noted it would be a few hours until lunch; a good chance she could catch Reeve still in his office then. Not that he was the type to take leisurely lunches, mind.

She suddenly empathised with ShinRa's ex- head of Urban Development. It couldn't be a good day, when you found out that the company you were desperately trying to stamp out seemed almost invincible, the proverbial weed amongst the roses. ShinRa secrets, especially new ones, were never good news. She couldn't help but feel sick inside at the thought.

Come to think of it, she didn't feel so good today. She began to rummage inside her drawer for her wizard bangle, the one she kept all of her restorative materia on, just in case. she'd taken it with her on the recovery missions in Midgar, when she'd searched through the rubble with her bare hands for survivors. Today though, she only planned on using Esuna to heal her headache.

Donning the bracelet on her left wrist, smiling faintly as the faint green glow seemed to manifest in her veins as a soothing warmth, she set about dressing before heading over to visit Reeve.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The building was filled with its usual hustle and bustle; people flitted down corridors, barely managing to keep a hold of teetering piles of papers; phones ringing incessantly, the sonorous tones ebbing and waving as she passed down corridors lined with offices. She found the elevator empty, though, and had an uninterrupted journey of twiddling her thumbs up to the eighth and topmost floor of the WRO headquarters. She felt a swell of pride for her comrade, who had achieved so much in so little time since meteor. She'd never really come to appreciate it before now, and when she came to think of it, it really was quite impressive.

The elevator emitted a polite ding, the metal doors juddering open as a smooth female voice announced the carriage's arrival at the top floor. Slipping out, she made her way along the light and airy corridor that stretched out before her. The walls either were all made of glass; she passed large, open plan offices and a bustling trading floor, a hive of activity, the air filled with the rustle of papers and the trilling tones of telephones.

Rounding a corner, she found the wall to her left, entirely constructed of glass, looked out over Edge. Following signs for Reeve's office (senior administrator), she felt as though she must have walked the entirety of the building's periphery. Approaching yet another junction, she stalled, searching for the next direction pointer. Then, she set off again. She must have not been paying attention, for she didn't even get the change to avoid the young girl who hurtled right into her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't-" She began her apology, yet she trailed off; The girl, who couldn't have been older than thirteen, set off at a run again, not once looking back at Tifa, brunette shoulder-length hair bobbing. Frowning, she dismissed it as some employee's kid, or perhaps a short intern, and continued on her search for Reeve's office.

Had she taken a different elevator last time?- she was pretty sure she'd never come this way before…

Then she spotted the familiar foyer- the desk that was usually occupied by the pretty, red-headed Secretary stood auspiciously empty this time. Reeve's office was fairly private, with only a small panel of glass at eye level- he held meetings in there often, she knew, and she supposed it served better than the glass panelling that typified the rest of the administrative floor. Peeking in, she couldn't see him at his desk.

Frowning, she decided to let herself in anyway. He probably wouldn't be gone long, and he wouldn't exactly mind her just inviting herself in; she could wait for him in here…

half way across the room, ready to take a seat in one of the plastic chairs positioned before his desk, she froze. The usually flawless floor-to-ceiling window that constituted the rear wall of his office bore a tell-tale red smear. Then she noticed an arm. Heart leaping into her throat, she circumnavigated Reeve's desk slowly, footfalls hesitant and weighted, not daring to imagine what she might find behind the hulking piece of furniture.

"Reeve?" The word left her lips in a strangled squeak; For the director, and senior administrator of the WRO was most definitely dead.

She dropped to her knees beside his body, not daring to touch him, to disturb his position of final rest. His eyes were open, though his lips were firmly closed, black hair falling to cover his pale, expressionless face. He lay on his side, head resting on one arm as though he were simply sleeping, though his chest no longer rose with the steady rhythmic rise and fall of breathing. His other arm was angled oddly toward the shiny red panic button, taped onto the underside of his desk. He'd not quite managed to reach it.

Taking a hold of the front of his jacket, she dragged out from where he must have slipped partly underneath his desk from his seat, and out into the open space of his office floor, a track of crimson trailing in his wake. Giving little thought for decorum, she tore away his shirt, buttons popping off, to reveal what had caused the front of it to be soaked through. Three bullets, one in the centre of his chest, the other two either side of it. He'd mostly died drowning on his own blood, the bullets puncturing his lungs. Magic could have healed that… if only she'd been faster…

She bent forward, unable to stop the tears from coming, taking fist full's of his shirt as she tried to control her breathing. His scent still lingered, fresh and clean, something that reminded her of being close to him; dancing, the few sporadic embraces she had stolen... She had _just_ started to get to know him; _why?_- why _now_ did fate see fit to snatch him away? Drowned, in his own blood, in his own office. She couldn't help but think it wasn't going to get any crueller than that.

Her grief only served to intensify the headache that had been troubling her that morning, and it was then that she remembered, the pain near blinding her. Her wizard bangle. It had served her well in the ruins of the Midgar slums. Limbs, broken and shattered, could be healed; bleeding could be stopped, and flesh could be knitted back together…

Maybe… just maybe…

Feeling around his back, exhaling slowly and deliberately in an attempt to calm herself, she noted that two of the slugs had gone right through, the metal malformed pellets heavy in her palm. It was the central one that worried her, though. If this didn't work… it could cause more damage. She cast her eyes about the room desperately, searching for something, anything… Then- what other man apart from Reeve would have a letter opener?- She found what she needed.

Her hands trembling as she hesitated for only a moment, she began to feel inside the bullet wound with her finger, testing how deep it was, and trying to ignore the building nausea in her chest. About two or three inches deep the bullet sat, cold and heavy… Giving no further thought, she drove in the slender blade of the letter opener, puffing out her cheeks as she tried not to vomit at the sound of squelching flesh… then _clink!_ as the bullet flew through the air, landing with a metallic tinkling somewhere to her left.

Her hand quaking like never before with the force of the heal spell she was generating, she tried to keep it steady. The warmth spread from her fingertips, knitting the flesh together, healing the wounds somewhat, while his body was still metabolically active enough to do so. She needed it to penetrate deep, mending the intrinsic muscle damage the bullets had undoubtedly inflicted. If the flesh would just hold…

Her energy would be tested, but she could do it. _Life_. She had only had to use it once to twice before, but she had seen the miracle as the life had returned to the person's eyes, the warmth slowly ebbing back into their faces…

She had to believe… He hadn't been dead long… his skin was still warm.

She was surrounded by white light, so bright and so warm, it hurt to keep her eyes open; yet she forced them to stay open, her vision blurring with tears. _Come on, Reeve… you are stronger than this!_ Then the light faded, and still he lay motionless before her, bloodstained, and slowly getting colder, his empty gaze fixed straight ahead, sending shivers down her back.

"Reeve, no! Please- come on…. come back, please! Reeve, come back to me…" She tried again, and again, her energy ebbing away faster than water from a sponge. She couldn't do this for much longer. It had to work, it just _had_ to. She had so much she wanted to say to him, so many things she still had to learn. She still hadn't _really_ seen him laugh, still hadn't seen him wear anything other than that blasted WRO uniform… It wasn't fair! Nothing was fair, anymore…

…then it came, that beautiful, horrific sound of him fighting to get his first breath, his face turning blue instead of white… His shoulders were convulsing violently, his spine suddenly rigid, his lungs spasmodically trying to suck in air into a place that was already full of fluid. Weakly, his limp and fumbling fingers groped at the air, trying, grasping for something… Calmly, she reached out to turn him on his side away from her, delivering several, hard thrusts between the shoulders blades, to free the obstruction.

The blood poured over his lips, caught in his trembling hand, as he drew in a rattling, painful breath.

_Breathing_.

As laboured as it was, he was breathing. Fighting to suck in air, and choking it out each time. Yet alive.

Barely able to breathe herself from uncontained, hysterical, yet jubilant sobbing, she managed to crawl over him to punch the panic button he had previously failed to reach. "_Tif_…" His dilate pupils were struggling to focus on her, her name clearly too much effort to speak from blood-soaked lips and burning, blistered lungs.

"Shhh… save your energy. Help is on its way," She soothed. She gently shifted him into her lap, gripping his shoulder tightly with pale, trembling hands. She pressed her lips to his cheek, whispered against his warming skin that everything was going to be alright.

He was alive.

When the security team rushed in, it was to find Reeve lying in a pool of his own blood, and Tifa passed out beside him, her fingers tightly laced with his.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Reeve became aware of an insistent beeping. Surely his alarm couldn't be going off this early? It was so dark. Frowning, he tried to lift his arm to turn it off- Yuffie must've set it as a joke or something.

"Whoah, easy man." What was Reno doing here in his bedroom? Then the lights came on- a severe, blinding pain ceased him attempted arm movement to cover his eyes, the sharp hiss in response to it hurting perhaps marginally more. "Where am I?" He managed to rasp, his throat and lungs burning.

"You're in hospital, Reeve."

"Hospital?" He fumbled for clarity, trying to recall any details. Then… she had only been young, perhaps twelve years old. He hadn't even thought to call for security.

"You were assassinated." Reno told him apparently, sickly amused. His eyes finally adjusting to the light, he squinted over at the red head. "Good and dead, apparently. That is, until your guardian angel showed up."

"Tifa?" He remembered the pain, trying to focus on her face. "Is she…"

"Jesus, you don't even _care_ who killed you?" Reno stopped laughing as Reeve glowered at him. "I dunno how she managed it. The Doctor's said she did everything right. She's pretty damn strong that woman, when she puts her mind to somethin'. Tifa; she's at Yuffie's right now. Made me promise to call her the second you woke up, seeing as it was me who insisted she get some damn rest."

"It's three in the morning," He remarked, glancing up at the clock that directly faced his bed. He noted the wires that hooked him up to the ECG machine. The traces looked normal, at least to his untrained eye.

"Well, she made me promise. Maybe I'll give her another two hours…"

"Is there… am I damaged?" He couldn't think of any other way to ask. His mind was plagued by haunting thoughts of repercussions, due to some lasting disability he might have sustained. He didn't want it to impede him on his quest to shut down Deepground- the group that had emerged from the underground labs. Then another thought took him. How would Tifa see him then?

"Don't worry. Everything is working fine. That-" He nodded to the ECG. "It's just precautionary. See, The third bullet was fired at your heart pretty much after you were done for. Just to make sure. Tifa was smart enough to take it out, before she revived you. Otherwise…" Reno grimaced, half way out of the door. "Not good for you."

The red head left Reeve in the relative quiet of his hospital bed, though in his head, it was far from silent. He wasn't going to die (again), and it seemed that now, he owed Tifa his life as well as an apology.

God, Yuffie was going to love this.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Yuffie's apartment was exactly how a young, single woman's apartment should be, Tifa had always thought. Lease restrictions preventing any major overhaul, i.e. painting, Yuffie had plastered all her walls with colourful posters, wall hangings from her native home, even strips of silk from old, ornamental dresses. She had strung fairy lights pretty much in every room, the sofa's original colour and fabric unknown, largely due to a vast array of throws and a rainbow of cushions. Tifa loved it.

Currently, she was sleeping, (albeit lightly) on Yuffie's sofa, the young Ninja herself half-slumped over her. They'd fallen asleep watching late-night TV, huddled up in Yuffie's bedcovers and eating pizza.

She almost didn't wake up when the door buzzer sounded. She stirred as a disgruntled Yuffie detached herself from the tangle of limbs and quilts, dragging herself over to the intercom.

"This'd better be good. It's seven in the morning, and I don't even have work," She grunted, leaning heavily on the wall with her eyes still closed.

"_Yo. Reno here. Reeve's up." _That voice couldn't have been more welcome, considering the time. Tifa had last seen him at the hospital just after midnight. She had been surprised by his cordiality- he had insisted she return for some sleep, seeing as he and another Turk were to be stationed in and outside of his room, should the attacker return to attempt to repeat the job again. He'd sworn to call as soon as Reeve had woken, though. Tifa rubbed at her, eyes, confused.

"He's what?" Yuffie snapped awake at this, pushing the button which would allow Reno access to the apartment complex. "Come on up, room 17, third floor."

"_Gotcha, babe."_

Tifa stretched, extracting herself from the tangle of pillows and quilts to at least make herself look partially presentable, considering. Reno was at the door a moment later, and when Yuffie opened it, she was surprised to note he carried two steaming take-out cups, and a brown paper bag. "A present for my favourite ladies!" He announced, stepping over the pizza box with dignity to set them down on Yuffie's coffee table, before slumping into a vacant armchair.

"I doubt that's true," Tifa remarked dryly, mumbling a thanks anyway as she reached for the coffee. "How come you didn't call?"

"Uh…" The redhead was grinning sheepishly, his fingers lost in his fiery mane of hair. "Well… Reeve said-"

"Lemme guess," Yuffie began, rolling her eyes as she reached inside the bag Reno had brought with him, and shoving the doughnut she produced into her mouth. "He din' wanna wake ushup."

"You are so friggin' hot when you do that," Reno quirked a brow. "I was merely doing as I was told. Sorry Tifa! This was all just a bribe to avoid being lynched." He nodded to the coffee that Tifa was now seriously considering tipping over his head.

"You promised!" She hissed vehemently, pointedly resisting eating her designated doughnut. "Though I suppose I should have learned my lesson. Men _never_ keep promises. I'm getting a shower."

"Ouch," Reno groaned, as Tifa stormed past him, and exited the room.

"Don't listen to her," Yuffie rolled her eyes, waving a hand dismissively. "She's just cranky."

"You mean like you were on the intercom?" Reno made a grab for the doughnut Tifa had neglected shoving it pretty much whole into his mouth. "Say, ish there somefin going on 'tween those two?" He articulated through his mouthful.

"No." Yuffie shook her head. Ok, maybe she was telling a tiny white lie. There was definitely something going on- she'd not been blind to the tension that had settled between them on the helicopter ride back to Edge, after Tifa's encounter with the Zolom. She'd thought it best to avoid bugging Reeve about it though; that day he had been in a particularly foul mood, having to deal with the new and troubling reports from the Midgar ruins, and she wasn't stupid enough to provoke him. "I'm doing my best to make it otherwise, though," She grinned impishly, a smile which the redhead was fond of wearing himself.

"That so? Dang- so you're not so keen on the idea of me and Tifa, then?"

"Hell no! She deserves better than you!" Yuffie screwed up her face, launching a cushion at his head that just so happened to be at hand.

"Hey! What's the big id-"

"I have more where that came from." She threatened, brandishing another cushion, a pink heart-shaped one covered in sequins. "I need you to keep flirting with her though."

"Don't need to tell me twice." He remarked, keeping a watchful eye on the cushion hovering at head-level. "But what's the big idea?"

"Well, I'm thinking Reeve might… realise he likes her. But more importantly, he's going to realise it on his own. Sort of."

"And why should I help you?"

"Because… I'm asking nicely?" She tried to manufacture a sweet smile for him, though it only served to make her cheeks ache with the effort.

"Jesus. I'll do anything so long as you stop smiling like that. It's fucking creepy."

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . **

**please let me know what you think- it's really helpful to get feedback, especially for a pairing I've never written for before.**

**JJ**


	7. Recovery

**7. Recovery**

When she arrived at the hospital, ahead of a Yuffie who was still trying to get rid of Reno, she couldn't quash the sense of anticipation at seeing him awake. Though she knew he had been alive last night, prior to her being dragged away by Reno, there was still something worrying about him being in a drug-induced catatonic state. It certainly didn't _feel_ like he was alive, the only proof that he hadn't indeed been a corpse was the incessant beep of the electrocardiogram machine at the side of his hospital bed.

Rude was stationed outside the private hospital room Reeve was currently housed in, his expression as impassive as usual behind those dark sunglasses, attached perpetually to his face. He nodded curtly upon recognising her, stepping aside to allow her entry into the small room he guarded.

The curtains had been opened, admitting the fresh, morning sunlight into the otherwise drab room. She squinted a little, her eyes having become accustomed to the blue-white lights of the many corridors she had taken in the hospital to get here. Reeve's eyes were closed, though she noted that he looked healthier; maybe it was the sunlight, or maybe he had eaten since he had awakened hours before. She let her breath out slowly.

Unsure of what to do now, she battled with the urge to just turn around and come back later. No, she told herself, giving an involuntary shake of the head. She'd come here to see him. She should stay until Yuffie arrived at least. Perhaps she should have waited for that troublesome ninja, instead of rushing off ahead on her own; suddenly now that she was here, she didn't know what she should do, or how she should act.

"Tifa?" She must have been standing there so long, battling with her indecision, that she hadn't noticed him waking. "You can sit down, you know." He shifted his position, trying to sit up a little more rigidly against the drooping pillows. She noted his wince of pain as he pushed his body up a little with trembling forearms. His chest was bound tightly by cream-coloured linens, wires protruding at various points to hook up to the ECG.

"Are you feeling well?" She asked, her words coming out rushed in her concern for him.

"As well as can be expected, the nurses keep telling me. My heart is still healing, apparently." He chuckled, though even that action seemed to cause him some discomfort. She smiled weakly, lowering herself into the seat placed at the side of his bed. A silence ensued, and their eyes met, both clearly struggling to find something to say to the other.

"I wanted to-" He began, just as she said, "I'm so glad you're-" He laughed again, head falling back with a soft thud against the pillows as he continued to chuckle despite the stabbing pains in his chest. Tifa hid her smile behind her hand, unsure of whether she should find it funny.

"You go first." He murmured, turning his head to regard her.

"I was just saying that… it's good to see you alive… and awake." She wondered when the tremor had entered her hands.

She should have expected he would notice, for he reached across the short distance between them to take it firmly between his own hands, squeezing it tightly. "Tifa. I… I don't really know how I can say this in a way that would befit the overwhelming sense of gratitude I have. Just… Well, thank you. Without you I wouldn't be here." His reassuring smile was met by a humbled blush.

"I didn't know what to do," She admitted, lowering her head. Her vision blurred, their joined hands becoming a flesh-coloured shape in her vision. "Seeing you dead, I… I panicked. I totally lost it." He didn't say anything, unable to view her face properly, on account of the sheet of her dark hair obstructing it. "I… I just did everything I could think of."

"It was enough, wasn't it? I'm alive, I can breathe, and I am still healthy. I owe all of this, to you, Tifa Lockheart." His fingers worked loose of her tightened grip, coming instead to gently cup her chin, raising her face to look at him. "I died yesterday. You gave me a second chance."

"I didn't want to lose you," she whispered, her breath warming his fingers. He suddenly found himself wishing he weren't bound to his hospital bed- if the nurse caught him moving at all, she would surely carry out her sedation threat… but she was so close, and still yet so far away from him. He wanted to pull her closer, and wipe the tears away that streaked her face; But he couldn't.

"You haven't lost me. I'm here." Deep brown eyes held amber tightly, soothing her ragged breath. His fingertips gently traced the tracks her tears had left on her cheeks; she was unable to tear her eyes away, held under his authoritative yet compassionate influence. She couldn't even muster the curiosity to turn and see who was currently turning the door handle, loud voices intruding on their tensile silence.

"Reeve!" Reno burst into the room, his energy bubble clearly a little too bulky to fit the room comfortably. It seemed neither Tifa nor Reeve were sharp enough to burst it however, and it seemed to be able to accommodate that which was brought along with Yuffie, also. "Good to see you up! Did Tifa wake you up to yell at you for not letting me call her at 3am? Geez, she was pissed at me this morning!"

The red head was exuberant as always, yet Tifa found it perhaps ten-fold more irritating and obtrusive as the norm. Yuffie shot an apologetic grin in Tifa's direction, though she didn't really register it at all, instead utilising the time in which Reno was distracted to wipe at her tear-streaked face.

"I should probably go soon," She said quietly, suddenly finding all eyes on her. Swallowing, she struggled to continue. "I need to check the accounts on the bar for this week's end."

"You need any help?" Yuffie offered from the foot of the hospital bed, her small, pretty face concentrated upon her friend's suddenly crest-fallen demeanour.

All she could offer was a feeble shake of her head as she set about gather her things together- a ruse, as she hadn't really brought anything that warranted the search. Reeve gave the hand he still realised he was holding a firm squeeze; it seemed to bring her back to earth a little, for she smiled, albeit weakly. "I shall call you later. You have your PHS?" When he nodded, her small hand worked its way free of his grasp, she exited the room, leaving behind her a heavy silence.

"You are like a clown at a funeral, you know that, Reno?" Yuffie groaned, flopping into the chair Tifa had only just recently vacated. From his stationary position in the hospital bed, trapped by wires, sheets and by the threat of sedatives, Reeve had never felt more idle; he was useless here, to anyone, to his company. He could be holding meetings here, or even a conference call at least. He needed to be sending out more patrols, more squads to keep the peace in Edge; The peace that he had so carefully constructed.

"Reno." He broke into a hushed, yet furious conversation between the two of his somewhat employees. The Turks were at his disposal now, after all; another courteous gift from Rufus. "I want you to fetch my secretary."

"The hot redhead, you mean? Gee, I know Tifa just left and everything, but don't you think you should wait at least a little while before screwing-"

"Reno!" Yuffie and Reeve shouted together, a fact which seemed to amuse the gangly Turk all the more.

"All right, all right. I get it. Would you like me to deliver a message? Perhaps tell her what she should wear?"

Choosing to disregard the last statement, irritation and restlessness itching from within his veins, he continued. "I want you to tell her to bring my contacts list, the files on Deepground, and also my computer."

"Sure thing. Shouldn't I just call her…" The Turk was halfway to the door, his pale hand outstretched toward the doorknob.

"Bring her here. I need you to make sure that the sensitive information she will be carrying reaches me safely."

"You got it."

The door snapped shut behind him, leaving only Yuffie to share his tangible silence. "Do you need me to do anything, Reeve?" Her voice was about as meek as it could get, for Yuffie. Perhaps he hadn't realised just how deep his frown had been; his forehead was starting to ache, the muscles complaining as he relaxed them from the pose they had been maintaining.

"I'm sorry Yuffie," He sighed, his head resting fully back onto his pile of pillows, fingertips rubbing at his temples. "I'm just a little frustrated, being confined to this room. You know me, I like to be stuck into work, and not having to deal with people worrying about me. I was in theatre for how many hours?" The sun was burning through his closed eyelids, red, and warm. He'd find time to think about Tifa, and how things might be different later on, no doubt.

"Um, eight hours, I think." Yuffie granted him his silent request to avoid the subject.

"And who was left in charge at HQ?"

"Well, uh… I sort of delegated tasks to all department heads. And I ordered a city-wide search for this young girl, who shot you." Opening his eyes to appraise her, he found her face worried, as if fearing his judgement.

"You did well, Yuffie. I am proud of you."

Her smile blossomed. "Aw, hell, Reeve." she moved perhaps a little too fast as was normal, her slender arms squeezing whatever she could reach tightly. "I was so worried about you! If Tifa hadn't of decided to visit you, to yell at you, or something, you'd be…"

"But I'm not. I'm still here."

"You'd better make good use of this second chance Reeve," Yuffie told him rather solemnly, extracting herself from him and his tangle of wires, flopping down into the seat once more. "Not a lot of people get given one. It hit Tifa pretty hard, you know," Yuffie offered an apologetic smile, perhaps for broaching the subject at all. "She just couldn't shake the image of you lying dead on the floor of your own office. I had to literally force her to leave here to get some sleep."

"Hm." He turned his head toward the window, squinting in the sunlight.

When Tifa had left the room, all he had wanted was to follow her. He needed to apologise for his cold treatment after the helicopter, he wanted to be in her easy company again, to laugh with her, and be teased by her; And thanks to Tifa, he still had the opportunity to. He'd been given a chance, and this time, he wasn't going to waste it.

He clenched his fists, inhaling deeply through his nose. "The doctors told me my blood pressure is a little on the high side. Apparently, I work too hard." He chuckled dryly. "When this is all over, I think I do need a vacation," He said aloud, acknowledging Yuffie's grunt of agreement.

"Your right about that. Maybe Tifa'd lend you to keys to the apartment in Costa?" She suggested.

"Maybe Tifa would come with me to Costa," Thinking aloud again. He wondered if this reckless behaviour was newly acquired.

"Damn, Reeve. You just wanna see her in a bikini, right? I'm sure if you asked nice enough…"

"I plan on it."

"Ok. I officially like this new Reeve. Though it's going to get a bit boring for me…"

"What?" He turned to stare at her, amusement turning the corners of his mouth up.

"I won't be able to yell at you anymore for being so wimpy. And I think you are starting to think using your… appendages rather than just your brain." Yuffie laughed at his cringe. "Well, maybe not everything has changed. One small step at a time, huh?"

"I would… appreciate it if you would not mention this to Tifa. I feel as if I still need to… iron some things out."

Yuffie shook her head. "She isn't mad at you. I promise you that. I just think she's struggling to get back to normal after the whole death-thing. She'll be right as rain soon, don't you worry."

"Your mission then, is to make sure Cloud can be there for her."

"Why Cloud? What's he got that I ain't!" The Ninja stood over his bed now, her fists resting on her narrow hips.

"Well, He's not got a shuriken, and I need _you_ to help Vincent. Ultra-classified mission, you understand. I give it to you with the utmost confidence that you will succeed."

"Aw hell," She relaxed for now, shifting her weight to one foot. "You know any job that needs doing, needs to be done by Yuffie Kisaragi!"

"Naturally."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

High blood pressure, or not, Reeve still had a lot of work to do. There were the many unanswered questions to be addressed, such as why did Deepground want him dead, and why did they send Shelua's sister, missing for ten years and apparently still the same age, to do the deed?

He had spent a good hour or so deflecting her many needless apologies, and trying to figure out what exactly had lead to this rather surreal turn of events. S-cells? No, he'd ruled that out. Anyone with S-cells would have been able to kill him with their bare hands for goodness sake, never mind running in and doing it with a gun. There was one thing he suspected, and he didn't like it one bit. This was the work of Hojo. From beyond the grave, perhaps, yet still… Not to be taken lightly. Nothing ever was, if that particular scientist's name could be attached to it.

He dreaded being the one to tell Vincent, though he assumed the gunslinger must have put some of the puzzle pieces together himself. He wasn't an idiot. Reeve only hoped that it would serve to make him stronger, and not the direct opposite.

After a week of holding meetings around his hospital bed, it seemed the kindly yet stern nurse who was in charge of his care had at last gotten tired of chastising him for not resting properly. He'd argued that he wasn't even moving out of his bed, yet her lowered brow quietened any further rebuttals. Still, a couple of meetings a day, masquerading as group employee visits, and it seemed she'd finally gotten the picture; Reeve was a businessman by nature, and no amount of scrapes with death could change that.

A few days later, Reno and Rude arrived, suited and the former wearing a huge grin to escort him from the building. He sighed with relief upon entering his familiar apartment, dropping his belongings in the doorway. They left him to his own devices, instructing him to call someone immediately should anyone suspicious try to access his apartment. This time, though he would at least be able to defend himself, he thought, testing the heavy weight of the pistol in his hand that Vincent had presented him with rather brazenly in hospital.

The raven-haired gunslinger hadn't lingered long; something about not feeling comfortable around men in white coats. It didn't seem to matter to him that they had the word 'Doctor' before their names, or that they weren't in anyway like the ShinRa scientists he associated them with; yet Reeve felt somewhat touched he'd at least remained long enough to be briefed for the next part of their scourge of Deepground, and to present him with a finely tuned revolver the colour of moonlight.

"Peacemaker, hm?" He turned the gun this way and that, the engraved name dancing in play of light along the barrel.

Sighing, he placed it down on the kitchen counter, aware of how ridiculously out of place it looked, before entering into his bedroom, stripping off his clothes as he went. With the shower running hot, he stepped under the jets, groaning with relief as muscles stiff from inactivity seemed to physically melt under the soothing hot burst.

For a few more minutes, he would continue to ignore the pile of paper he had spotted, spilling over from his fax machine and onto the floor of his home office space. He always left it switched on, to make sure he never missed a message or a piece of Intel. Sure enough, after eight days in hospital, it had clearly gone in to overload. He'd check it all later. Apparently, everything was being dealt with smoothly at the HQ, with working hours and security stepped up. Yet still, he always liked to see things for himself.

Flinching a little as he raised an arm to scrub beneath it, he considered the bathroom tiles. How long was this going to last? How many more days till the aftermath was on the horizon, and all he had left to deal with was the cleanup. He was quite practised at those, by now. Besides, the area of Midgar thought to be the centre of Deepground's activities hadn't yet been touched. He may as well make it the next area on the list.

Sighing as he rinsed the suds from his aching body, Reeve wondered whether he'd need to erect a memorial to commemorate those who would lose their lives there inevitably. Another monument to join the others he'd created; the metal colossal framework that had been designed by a local architect, to commemorate the deaths of the people in Midgar when Meteor fell, though that had been decimated by Bahumut; and another which had been designed for the Geostigma victims, which now stood outside the brand new Edge hospital.

Not more death. Not more destruction.

Alas, that was the way of the world these days.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She'd sat staring at her PHS for several minutes, chewing her lip fretfully, her fingertips drumming on the bar top. Should she call him? He'd probably be very busy, she reasoned. Vincent and Yuffie were out in the field, reports returning almost hourly. They had penetrated the wastes around the reactor where the Deepground activity had been confirmed, and they had managed to locate Shelke. Not so hostile anymore, it seemed, though Tifa didn't like it one bit. She'd be sure to keep an eye on her, were she in Reeve's shoes.

Then, causing her to start suddenly, her PHS starting to ring, vibrating in lazy circles atop the wooden surface it lay upon. Sighing, she flicked it open.

"Hello?"

"_Tifa, Reeve here. I've been trying to contact Cloud, do you know where he is?_"

Not a personal call then. In the background, she could hear other phones ringing, and a low chatter of voices. Perhaps he was in a conference. "I don't know. I haven't seen him. He's not on delivery, though, I saw him last night." She reached for her jacket, already pretty sure that she'd need to make a house call. Maybe he'd been in the shower or something.

"_I need you both to come to HQ as soon as you can. We're planning the assault, and I wanted to give Avalanche a shot on the action._"

"Alright. I'll be there are soon as I can, Reeve." she is smiling, despite the seriousness of the situation, snapping the phone shut as soon as she knows Reeve has nothing else to say. She had actually been dying to try out her new battle suit. The last one got a bit damaged after the scuffle with Loz and Bahumut. The new one hadn't really seen a real fight yet.

She hurried around to Cloud's, catching him just as he is about to leave his apartment building. "I got his voicemail," Cloud waggled his PHS before shoving it into his pocket. First Tsurugi is strapped across his back, and she senses the buzz of energy emanating from him. He must have dug out his high powered materia, the pieces he had obviously avoided handing over to Yuffie.

"Do you reckon it's bad?" She keeps pace with him as they cut through an alley, a shortcut toward the main street.

"I mean, Yuffie called me yesterday, knowing I've been sick with worry. She mentioned something about new super soldiers. Nothing like Sephiroth but still… Its worrying."

Cloud shakes his head slightly, as they emerged from the gloom of the alley and into the afternoon sunlight. "I don't think it's going to be too much trouble. Vincent has been picking them off one by one; Stealing our lime light, it seems." She doesn't miss his soft smile. "And I don't think Reeve would want to send you into anything too dangerous."

"What is that supposed to mean, Strife?" She huffs, attempting to punch his arm, though he chuckles, ducking out of the way. The WRO building looms ahead of them.

"Well, I'm sure he's got a lot to say to you, once this is all over."

"Do you know something I don't?" She hisses as they enter into the building's foyer, the doors gliding shut behind them with a gentle thrum. "Because I seem to think that every fucker around here knows something…" She grumbles as they await security to allow them entrance into the building, and in a few moments they are standing in an empty elevator car, vibrating softly as it ascends.

"Sorry, I'm just kidding. I just… I've bumped into him a few times since… You know, the shooting." She stares down at her hands. "There's a new fire in his eyes. He's determined to get this done."

She couldn't say whether or not she agreed with Cloud, really; she'd barely had contact with him since he'd been discharged from the hospital, having no connection to the WRO, like Cloud did. Though when she entered into the conference room and saw him standing at the head of the table surrounded by maps and various high ranking personnel, coat off and sleeves rolled up, she could whole heartedly agree with Cloud. Then when he glanced up from the table, she felt the fire in his eyes start to smoulder in her chest. She ignores Reno, grinning at her from his place stood sentry at the doors.

"Good, you're all here." He straightens up, addressing the whole room, and it is only then that she belatedly notices that Barrett, Cid and Red are there too, leaning against on sitting near the far wall, ready to hear what he had to tell them. "Here's the plan."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They were leading the main assault. Not exactly what she had expected, though it seemed the others were sharing her shock. Reeve was putting them at the front line? Cloud shrugged and said he didn't understand it either, but orders were orders; it wasn't like Tifa to balk from a challenge, when she was presented with one.

"Take this with you." Cloud had managed to find her among the ruckus of troops standing sentry in the airfield, awaiting air transportation to the Deepground reactor. "You might need it." He'd detached one of the lighter blades from First Tsurugi, the very same one she had used so successfully against the Zolom outside of Edge a few weeks before. She was also handed a brace for it, designed to be slung across her lower back.

"Are you sure you won't need it?" She frowns, clipping the brace into place about her waist. The blade slid into its holster comfortably, and was barely a burden at all.

He shakes his head, confident. "Not this time. Be careful."

"You know me; the closer I am to danger, the further I am from harm."

Cloud gives an involuntary roll of the eyes. "Sure."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Reeve feels the beginnings of a blinding headache setting in, but he pushes it to the back of his mind for now. The airfield is a hive of activity, the air barely still before another Chinook or helicopter is descending, reading to load with soldiers. The floor is vibrating almost with the practiced and disciplined stomp of the WRO forces.

Reno is his usual composed and nonchalant self at his side, his odd calm serving to instil Reeve with a strange sense of unease. Was it normal, to be so relaxed at a time like this? "Fuck me sideways," the redhead suddenly exclaims, and Reeve turns to find his companion uncharacteristically disquieted.

"What is it?" He sighs heavily, glancing up from his stack of clipboards stuffed with military stats and satellite readouts.

"Surely it shouldn't be allowed for her to look like that, when there's an important mission on; the male troops'll never want to leave base."

"I don't know what you—ah." He scanned the lines of officers, though his search went on for only a few seconds before he spotted the source of Reno's sudden discomfiture.

Tifa, of course. Black leather, sliced at the abdomen to expose a delectable portion of her midriff, covered her upper body, baring her arms, the ivory skin dissected here and there by elbow and shoulder braces, punctuated by the stark red leather of premium hearts. Strapped across her lower back was what Reeve recognised as one of Cloud's blades, glinting in the dying sunlight, and he notes the absence of the cascade of chocolate hair. Instead, it is tied back and safely out of the way in a tight braid at the base of her neck. Her legs are covered by a layer of protective leather also, her knees guarded by metal plating.

"I know I've probably said this before, but I'd totally tap that."

"If you have said that before, it certainly was not in my presence," Reeve replied, scowling a little to himself. They are approaching the landing pad where Tifa is awaiting pickup with her assigned squad, and he can't seem to find a way to avoid her whilst on his rounds. He swallows involuntarily as he approaches her, trying not to make his obvious discomfiture apparent as she chooses that moment to stretch her arms above her head, drawing his attention to the 'v' of the upper portion of her battle suit, and the dangling silver zipper.

"Yo, Lockheart. You have heard this is a military op, right, not a sex party?" Reeve shoots what he imagines is a venomous glare in Reno's direction, but the redhead is completely oblivious to anything else around him (as was his way, when a woman was concerned).

Tifa only smiles, running a hand down the front of her suit. "You don't like it? The maker assured me it would offer me maximal manoeuvrability, whilst still providing enough support."

"Well hurrah for manoeuvrability, is all I say." Reeve clears his throat as Reno pointedly stares for too long at Tifa's breasts. At that moment, Reno's PHS started to ring loudly, and he excuses himself reluctantly, vanishing in no time into the hubbub surrounding them.

"Ah… Well, you know the plan. Just promise me that you'll-"

"—'Be careful', I know! I've had you, Barrett _and_ Cloud harping on at me all day. I'm not likely to forget am I?"

"I just don't want you to be getting killed. I couldn't… bear it, of something happened to you. It would be my fault."

She notes his pursed lips, and his gentle frown, and suddenly understands. "You didn't even want me to come along, did you? And I bet it wasn't your idea to get me into this in the first place either," He shifts uncomfortably. "Don't worry about it. I get the idea. All I'm saying is, if we both make it through this, which I'm sure we will, you owe me."

"What sort of payment are we talking?" He knows he doesn't sound confident, but it was worth a shot.

She is grinning widely at him. "How about a day as my slave? Or covering a shift at my bar? I'll think of something…"

"I shall await my with trepidation. But for now, I have things that require my attention. Just…. Stay safe Lockheart. I mean it."

He glances back once over his shoulder before she loses sight of him, one navy uniform in a sea of navy uniforms, and she smiles to herself, looking forward to when the moment would come when Reeve _didn't_ have other things that required his attention. When there wasn't anything that could possibly distract him from what the had both obviously been pushing to the backs of their minds.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sorry it's been a while, I've been deciding just how action packed I want the next chapter to be, and I still haven't made a decision!


	8. The Battle of Edge

**SORRY FOR THE REPOST. I just made the fight scene longer, and I removed the last chapter because I decided I wasn't all too happy with it. So if at first you don't suceed….**

**8. The Battle of Edge**

It takes only a short helicopter ride, and they're in the thick of it.

At the meeting, she had thought things weren't perhaps as bad as they seemed, that it would go smoothly, and that by the morning they would all be able to laugh about it. Though at that moment, when she stepped out of the helicopter, she realised why he had been so worried.

Deepground had an army- ships, guns, soldiers- you name it. No Wonder Reeve had been so stressed out for weeks.

Her knuckled creaked in their leather casing as she clenched her fists. She'd fight though the bullets, because she had to believe she could. Because she wanted to be able to say to Reeve that there really hadn't been any need to worry. So that she could see him again.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

The fighting lasted for hours. Her predominant arm was beginning to ache a little from repetitive use, but she gave it little thought, currently in a vicious fist fight with a Deepground drone. They were strong, she'd give them that. Though the bones still shattered just the same, she noted, as his jaw splintered at the contact of her fist. The second punch probably collapsed his skull, and by the third and final one, he was most definitely dead. She steps over him to battle with the next.

Her radio buzzes to life in her ear. It is only Cloud, telling her he is alright, that they've made it through the first lines of enemies, and that the artillery is currently being wiped out by Cid's impressive air fleet. Well, at least there hadn't been may guns to contend with on this side of the reactor ruins; Reeve had laid his plans very carefully, it seemed.

She falls back in line with the squad of combat soldiers, readying themselves for the new approaching wave of super soldiers, and they all seem to balk slightly at the sight of a man who would easily dwarf Barrett. His arms were probably as thick as her body. Wasting no time, she draws the First Tsurugi fragment bestowed upon her by Cloud, and charges.

He deflects her first blow as if she had beat him with a toothpick, her arms straining to combat the backlash as the sword swings up into the air, leaving her exposed. He may have been large, but he was slow, to her utmost relief. She ducked and rolled out of the way of his devastating lurch, all too aware that he could probably crush her ribcage like a pretzel if she was unlucky enough to be stood upon. He reels around to face her with an angry growl, and she locks gazes with him, shivers travelling down her body at the sight of the gaping luminescence where his eyes should be. Definitely unnerving.

Her battle with him is the only one she is aware of; the sounds of her comrades clashing with the foe are drowned out by her desire to overcome her enemy. Though she is well aware of when she is outmatched, currently in the midst of a volley of hacks and slashes that only gives her jarring pains, as a reward for her efforts.

blade glances from his skin as if he were made of steel. This being Deepground, she didn't doubt it, either. "Might need your help with this one, Cloud." She yells into the radio.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Her voice sounds in his earpiece over the channel set aside for the Avalanche members to use if need be, though he is rather occupied himself; two swords, to match the twin-bladed lance of his strange, red-headed opponent. She is impressively fast, though her arrogance will soon give way to frustration soon enough. Cloud knows that patience is going to be his most deadly weapon.

"I'm tied up at the moment," He answers, deflecting her frighteningly fast volley of blows with equally frightening ease. Sephiroth had been the final challenge. And there would never be another to match him. "Perhaps Cid could send over a ship?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

"No can do sunshine!" Cid growls into his headset. He is feeling pretty irked; the Shera had taken some damage. Nothing that could take him out of the air, according to Shelke, though he couldn't take many more hits like that, or it'd be bust up real good. "We're makin' some real progress up here; 'sides, Vinnie needs us to breach their defences so he can drop on in."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Tifa's brow creases, sweat forming in steady rivulets at her hairline, sliding down her cheeks like tears. Her playmate had found a new toy; some discarded fragment of metal the size of Fenrir. This was not her lucky day.

"But he's going to fucking cut me in two." She hisses, giving her assailant a wide berth as she appraises the situation, talking more to herself than into the radio.

"Barrett- I could really use your ceaseless fire right about now;" She screams into the headset, diving out of the way once more as her opponent makes a mad dive for her. With horror, she watches as a nearby WRO agent is caught in the way of the attack, and is cut down, lying unmoving in the dirt. The metal shard sinks several feet into the soil, dripping, slick with crimson. She calls a silent prayer to the fallen, all the while yelling herself hoarse instructing the surrounding WRO soldiers to get out of the way, lest the same fate befall them.

He seems to find energy and speed from somewhere, recovering almost instantly and bearing down upon her again, inhuman roars coming from deep within his cavernous chest. She casts a few quick defensive spells, using every ounce of her concentration to avoid that nasty steel-fragment. Come to think of it, it looked like it had perhaps been part of an aircraft once…

God, where the hell was Barrett?

He is in a frenzy now, a beast annoyed by the small fry human, avoiding his futile swats. Though his aim is improving, and she doesn't really fancy letting him perfect it. Her headset is silent for now, and so she assumes that everyone is experiencing some kind of difficulty of their own. That was until…

"Oi, you!" She hears that amplified, high pitched voice, equally as confused as her combat partner, whose lumbering head turns to find the source of the voice. "Yeah, you up there- the ugly one!"

"Cait Sith!" She spots the little grey cat, so tiny without the moogle to ride upon, yelling up at the brute with a cute smile upon his face.

"Pick on someone your own size!" The little cat performs a ridiculous dance, jumping around with acrobatics that apparently were frustrating the hulk of a creature before it. Taking the moment while the man is distracted, if she could really call the mass of solid muscle and glowing blue eyes a man, she swings with all her strength with the sword. The sharp point of the blade meets flesh, and the luminous eerie blue where the eye-sockets were was suddenly extinguished.

His furious, pain-filled scream seemed to shake the ground upon which she stood. His blindness seemed to incense him further- the makeshift sword-cum-club is dropped in favour of flailing at her madly, and she can't recover in time, her blade somehow buried several inches in the dirt, resistant to her tugging. The blow was poorly aimed and off target, yet it still knocks her to the ground, dazed.

His fists the size of a car wheel grasp for her, somehow finding her throat and closing around it, lifting her from the floor as easily as if she weighed nothing more than a small child. Her hands, so tiny in comparison clutch at fingers the size of lead pipes with increasing futility. God, was this how she was going to die, she thought, her legs flailing uselessly beneath her, trying to find ribs.

Her vision was blurring, her throat emitting horrific gurgles as she fights for air.

Gods, this couldn't be it….

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He is running, faster than he thought he could have pushed himself, considering how he had specifically been instructed not to by the doctor. No matter. He'd worry about it later.

His boots thud rhythmically beneath him, kicking up dust in his wake. He touches his finger to his earpiece. "Yuffie, minor detour!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She could hear Cait Sith somewhere. Doing his damn best to try and dissuade the monster from its current task, painting himself as a more worthy target of such punishment. Though as the seconds tick by, his efforts go on unrewarded, and her awareness gradually slips away…

A high pitched whistle resonates through the air, piercing her clouded mind, and suddenly she can breathe again, landing against something soft, yet sturdy, sucking in breaths desperately past a bruised windpipe. He could have crushed her if he'd have wanted to, though it seemed his desire to watch her die slowly had somehow saved her, in the end. She can hear him roaring still, though the sound is somewhat further away. It seemed he'd found something worthy of his immediate attention.

"It's alright, I've got you."

Reeve.

She had landed heavily against him, all clutching fingers and gasping for breath. She had surprised him though, recovering quickly and up on her feet once more. "I want to carry on fighting," She had stated bluntly, at his request for her to retreat to the WRO base to be examined by a doctor. He had expected as much of course.

"I thought you might say that," he yelled over the clash of swords and the calamity of screams and shouts as fists flew all around them, surrounded by a sea of navy uniforms amidst a foray of strange royal blue suits lined with an eerie glow that was tell tale of mako. "So I brought this." He opens his palm, and she notes he is holding a small syringe. "Adrenalin. Not that you'll need any more."

"Stick me." She winces only a little as he mercilessly drove the needle into her arm. "Let's get on with it." There was a raging fire in her eyes and a twitch in her brow that both thrilled and unnerved him.

Azul, the beast with which Tifa had been fighting a losing battle with was still tumbling around, now more interested in trying to catch the fuzzy figure of Cait Sith, dancing between its tree trunk legs. Yuffie had long gone, the smoky trail of her hover board no longer distinguishable amidst the network now criss-crossing the sky.

He pulled on black leather gloves hastily, before reaching beneath his coat for the heavy titanium night stick that Reno had given to him a few months ago. One smart rap with that, and you'd go flying backwards several meters, or so the redhead said so.

Secretly, Tifa had been impressed. His punches were thrown accurately, and with staggering force- often a single one was sufficient to floor his opponent. Sometimes he would step over it, allowing one of the WRO soldiers to finish the job, and once, she saw him execute the coolest neck-break she'd ever seen; placing his foot across the throat before giving a vicious twist, using all his body weight to pivot at his hips. That stick looked like it could do some damage, too. She could recall all too clearly how it felt to be on the receiving end of that, after her many past scuffles with the Turks, and with Reno in particular.

Together they had battled through the hoards, often finding themselves pressed back to back, throwing punches in sync with one another. They worked like a well-oiled machine, never missing a beat, and Tifa wondered whether he had been this proficient with his fists prior to Avalanche, or whether it had become a more recent trait of his. To look at him, you would never guess. Though she reasoned between a round house kick and a jaw-splintering right hook that there were many things about Reeve that had been rather unexpected.

The skies had suddenly darkened then, and they looked up to find Chaos silhouetted against what light remained, through all the dust and the shadows of airships passing overhead. Reeve had grasped her hand firmly then, urging her into a sprint as they retreated from the battle lines, well out of range of the reactor, where Genesis was awaiting his final opponent. All he was aware of was his rapidly pounding heart, and her leather-clad hand clutched tightly in his, their boots pounding through the dirt and rubble toward the safety lines.

There, Avalanche were waiting, their faces turned towards the skies, illuminated blue by the charge of magic. Cloud nodded to him once; a thank you for a rescue he couldn't well make himself, though he barely registered it. Tifa's throat bore some nasty bruising, yet he bit back any inquiries as to her condition. She was much tougher than that.

It was only then, stood in the blinding light as they watched Vincent take on Genesis head to head, did he notice she still held on tight to his hand.

. . . . . . . . . .

The air is much more still now, the dust finally settling over the aftermath. It is almost too quiet- though what is left of the steel skeleton of the reactor creaks and groans in the wind. The rough terrain crunched under her boots, a mixture of gravel, soil, rubble and blood, as she picked her way across the navy-uniformed bodies and lumps of rubble, towards where the monster now lay. She didn't have to look for long- she found the small fuzzy form of Cait Sith lying in the dust, barely visible. She picks its little limp artificial body up, almost cradling it in her arms as she stands.

She didn't know why she had come back for him. Probably because it was her way to thank Reeve. Probably because she'd always loved cats.

"You found him." He states unnecessarily as she returns to where the helicopter is waiting for her, smiling softly as she places the tiny cat in his arms. There, it stirs under his warm gaze. "He's going to need repairing again."

"You saved my life," It's her turn to state the unnecessary, and he laughs softly through his nose.

"Call it a favour." He places his hand at the small of her back, helping her into the cabin. He doesn't want to argue this time, that it had been partly Yuffie's victory as well, her shuriken embedding itself into the monsters head. She winces- there mustn't be an inch of her that isn't bruised. "Let's get back to HQ."

"Do you think Vincent will be alright?" The helicopter had taken flight, piloted by a Reno who was furtively silent for once. They were currently sweeping over the Edge wastes, a blank canvas of dust and the steel shells of long destroyed buildings. He turns his face toward her, considering her carefully with his deep brown eyes.

"I think so. He'll return when he has found what he is looking for."

"What's that?" She closes her eyes, resting her head against the window, letting the drone of the helicopter blades whooshing overhead sooth her.

"Forgiveness."

"That's what he is looking for? I bet he's had it all along."

"You're probably right. He just needs to be able to see it. That's the hardest part, I suppose." He considers the cat in his lap, now more of a rag doll than a living breathing mechanical creature. Why had she wanted to find him? He voices this to her, though he receives no answer. A quick glance confirms that she has fallen asleep, exhausted, her forehead rocking gently with the movement of the helicopter.

"I can see you checking her out while she's asleep, you know?" Reno calls from the cockpit.

"I'd rather you could see where you were going, thanks very much. The pilot certainly doesn't get such liberties."

. . . . . . . . . . .

The bar was heaving tonight; she didn't recognise anybody's face from the Deepground missions, though they all seemed to know her- many of them worked for the WRO, and were currently enjoying some down time. She wondered between pouring pints and shaking cocktails if Reeve was getting any down time, too. Though perhaps due to the fact that even Yuffie professed to have not seen him in days, she doubted it very much. The man was probably making more work for himself than was necessary.

At around eleven o' clock, Reeve himself entered the bar, taking her quite by surprise. By then, most of the WRO soldiers had made off for other bars and louder music, and so his arrival went relatively unnoticed. He slid into what had now become his customary booth by the window, placing his head in his hands and staying perfectly still. Gnawing on her lip, Tifa reached behind her almost without looking, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of her strongest whiskey, one that Cid preferred whenever he visited. Reeve wasn't usually the drinker, though she was going to make him this time, should she need to. The guy needed a drink more than anyone here did. She only jerked her head and offered a sympathetic smile to her barmaid to let her know she was taking some time out; it was quieter now, at least.

As she approached the table, she noted the presence of his briefcase- surely he hadn't been in the office all this time? Pursing her lips, she fumbled around in her mind for a suitable chastisement to make, one that he might actually listen to. Her search came up blank.

"Reeve?" She paused at the table's edge, hesitating. He looked up from his cupped hands, and she felt her insides contort at the sight of him; he looked so _worn_, so tired, since last she had seen him. "Can I sit down?"

"Of course you can sit down," Her shoulders relaxed a little at the sight of his familiar smile, the smile that she was beginning to think he saved just for her.

"What's going on, then?" She began, seating herself opposite him and pouring him a healthy measure of spirit. She raised a brow when he knocked it back in one. "You look beat- and I am guessing that you've come straight from HQ."

He said nothing for a moment, running a hand over his face slowly. Then she noted that, despite his efforts to steady them by resting them atop the table, his hands were shaking. "I think… I'm close to cracking, Tif. I… I don't think I can keep going on like this."

Almost reflexively, she reached across the table and seized his hands, squeezing them gently upon finding them cold. "What is it Reeve?"

"It's just… I'm not sleeping. I barely eat. Those people Tifa… they… I never wanted to become another ShinRa. I have an army for god's sake, people _died_ fighting for me! I never wanted that…. I never…" He was guilty. She should have guessed, really. The losses on the WRO side was relatively low, considering, yet still few dozen men and women had lost their lives in the battle; Lives that Reeve undoubtedly felt responsible for.

She shushed him, releasing one hand temporarily so she could refill both their glasses. "Reeve, it had to be done. Somebody had to fight against Deepground."

"I know that… It's just-"

"You're blaming yourself, Reeve, and I assure you that you are alone- nobody else blames you. Nobody else is angry with you. You've worked wonders since ShinRa fell, you've achieved things that I admit I'd never thought possible. I admit it, ok, I was a doubter at first." She was pleased to see him at least chuckle half-heartedly at that. "But I've told you this before, and I'll tell you again- you need to stop taking so much upon yourself. As wonderful as you are, you are just one man. You can't do everything alone."

He snorted, reaching for his glass and again draining its contents. She refilled it automatically. With their hands no longer conjoined, hers felt idle. "The thing is, I know you're right, I just… I know this sounds stupid, but I don't know how to… not work as much. I just keep myself busy; that's always been my way of dealing with things. Then when I find a reason to… slow down and ease off, I can't." He flicks his gaze upwards momentarily, to find she is watching him intently, her gentle hands folded around her full glass.

"You need to hire a PA or something, and start making less work for yourself. When you leave that office- at a respectable time, mind you- that time is for you, and you alone."

"Maybe I will… But in the mean time I have all the paper work to deal with for the soldiers that were killed, or injured. You should see the pile…" He laughed darkly. He felt as though if he didn't, he would surely cry.

"What sort of paperwork?" She tilted her head to consider him.

"Mostly filing, but I have to type up reports onto the WRO server, so that they can be printed," He waved one hand dismissively, his eyes now unfocussed. She suspected that that had something to do with being both sleep depraved, and slightly drunk.

"Well, I'll help you."

"What?"

"Tomorrow, at 1900 hours and no later, I want you to come by my new apartment across town, bringing with you as much paper work as you can. I'll rustle up dinner, and we can get through it together." Her new apartment was only a few streets away from the WRO HQ, if you knew all the shortcuts, so it shouldn't be too much out of Reeve's way. She was currently renting her own lodgings above the bar to her newest bar staff.

"I don't know Tif-" He was hushed by her brazen stare.

"I don't want to hear any excuses. If you aren't at my apartment by then, I'll hunt you down, and make you damn sorry you didn't listen to me. Call it that favour you owed me; do me a favour by doing yourself a favour, if you like."

"You know something? I really needed to see a friendly face tonight, someone who would listen, someone who'd understand…" He paused, draining his fourth glass now. She sipped reverentially at hers, still her first. "I knew I could count on you. You're just who I needed to see."

"You won't say that tomorrow," She laughed, aware of her cheeks flushing.

"No, I mean it. I feel somewhat apologetic that as of yet, I haven't really made prime use of my big second chance. My life is as much the same as ever, if not more hectic. But then there's you, offering me a way out."

"Alright, make this your last whiskey, Tuesti." She announced, filling his glass once more. "Let's drink to tomorrow; whatever it may bring." She raised her glass, noting that Reeve seemed to be struggling to hold his steady as he mirrored her gesture.

"To tomorrow." He says solemnly, before they chink glasses. The whiskey burns its way down her throat, and she fights that reflexive urge to cough and splutter. Moments later, the burn is replaced instead by a smoulder in her chest, that warms her body through to her fingertips.

She ushers him to his feet, batting his hand away as he reached for money to pay for whiskey they hand drank. It is only when she turns back from watching him walk down the street in a deliberate, laboured manner does she notice Cloud. "When did you get here?" She frowns a little, running her fingers through her hair.

"Not long ago. You were talking with Reeve though, so I thought I'd wait." He takes the seat that Reeve previously vacated, watching her as she clears away the whiskey and the two empty glasses. "Is everything alright? He looked…"

"Beaten? I know." Sighing, she slumps back into her seat and stretches her arms above her head, grimacing as a few vertebrae pop into place.

"Is there anything I can do?" Cloud is frowning, his fingertips idly tracing the grain in the wooden surface of the table. "To help I mean."

"I don't think so," She sighs again, burying her fingers in her hair, starting to massage her scalp. Her hair has been tied back all day, putting unnecessary tension on her forehead. She is looking forward to the painkillers awaiting her in the kitchen back home. Only an hour more to her shift…

"How is the apartment, then?" He is making a stab at conversation, of which she is immensely grateful. Her mind currently is centred on Reeve, but also on desperately trying not to show it at the same time.

"Oh, it's fine, Yuffie and I painted my bedroom and the kitchen the other day. It's looking good so far. Oh, and thanks for the help with the boiler, by the way. Saved me a packet on calling an engineer."

"No problem. Listen, I'd better go- just called to say I'd be out of town for a few days making some deliveries for Reeve. I'll be heading to Junon so call if you can think of anything you want me to bring back with me."

"Sure. Have a safe trip." She escorts him to the door, her body suddenly feeling a tonne heavier than it had done before. She gives him her customary one-armed embrace before he leaves, though this time she is surprised when he gives her a gentle squeeze in return. He then subjects her to a lingering, loaded stare, as if he is considering saying something, though she understands well enough. He is wishing her luck, giving her his approval, and his assurance that he is there for her should she need him, all at once.

"Should I follow Reeve back and make sure he makes it home ok? Looks like he polished off a good half bottle of that stuff." He jerks his head toward the now three-quarters empty bottle stood atop the bar, still waiting to be put back in its proper place on the shelf.

"That would put my mind at ease, if you don't mind." He grins, and ruffles her hair, and she knows full well she is pretty much the colour of grenadine. "Get the fuck out of my sight, Strife."

She can still hear him laughing as he walks away.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

revised 3/5/11


	9. Proof Reading

**New chapter, a short one, but leading up to something I promise! Please R&R!**

9. Proof-reading

As the hour approaches seven, she tries to quash down the unfounded sense of unease within her. Why is today any different, she asks her reflection as she combs her hair for what is probably now the sixth time within the last hour. Still, there manages to be a new knot in it each time she does. Because, she thinks somewhat ruefully, it's the first time you'll have been truly alone together since everything started; since she started to notice the way she felt around him. It didn't feel like anything she'd ever felt before, and perhaps that's why she'd ignored and dismissed it for so long.

He made her feel like she could do anything; he could empower her, and yet he still belittled himself. He was such a strong, beautiful person, and yet he just didn't see it. He was sincere, calm, trustworthy… and recently, she'd noted that he was also shy, where certain things were concerned. Much in the same way as she was, when it came to love.

There, she'd admitted it; She suspected that there wasn't going to be any turning back.

Her buzzer sounded abruptly at ten to the hour, making her heart jump into her mouth. She checks over her dark tight fit jeans, vest top and jacket ensemble one last time in her mirror, before giving her hair a habitual ruffle at the roots. Within a minute of her pressing the lock release he was outside of her door and she was letting him in. He looked a little brighter at least, she noted with a small smile. Probably had the best night's sleep he'd had in weeks.

"I thank you graciously for your help today- it should really be a punishment for you, considering this hang over is your fault." He handed her his coat as she had politely waited for him to remove it, and appraised his surroundings. The apartment was open plan and spacious, and something cooking in the kitchen smelled fabulous. "I like the paint. I take it that's what Yuffie had on her face last week?" He was referring to the lilac blob he had spotted on the young Ninja's cheek.

"Well, she did insist on starting the paint fight. I couldn't get it out of my hair for days," she recalled with a scowl. "I think it works quite well, though. Did you find me alright, then?"

Suddenly the conversation was plunged into cordiality, and she found herself making both tea and small talk in the kitchen as he inspected the contents of her open shelving units, and the spines of her collection of cook books. Her kitchen back at the bar had had a much more industrial feel to it, somewhat Bauhaus and minimalist. This one was more kitsch, how she remembered the old family kitchen back in her house in Nibelheim. It felt a lot more like home.

"Something smells wonderful," He said after accepting the mug of freshly made tea, and following her back into the living room where he took a seat upon a very comfortable sofa. "Please tell me it's lasagne."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Several hours later, long ago fed and satisfied, Reeve's paperwork had been categorised into piles for sorting atop Tifa's coffee table, Tifa herself sat crossed-legged on the floor by his legs, thumbing through a file of data sheets. "Jesus, Reeve have you ever considered putting all of this onto the computer system?"

"Hm. Not secure enough. Data protection…" He answered vaguely, apparently deep in concentration. She indulges a glance at him over her shoulder, before returning reluctantly to reading through the data.

"You could pay someone to design a security network, surely?"

"We do already have a network, but we use that for low risk data, and communication. All high security documents are hand delivered. By Cloud, actually."

"Surely there's a better way, though." She huffs, tossing that to the pile designated as 'no'.

She was proofreading, highlighter at the ready for marking out errors, though her concentration was waning. As was her pile of documents to complete, she noted with relish. Stretching her arms above her head with a discomfited groan, she let her head rest back on the sofa cushion, her eyes closed, arms flopped down and resting in her lap. She listened to the tap-tap of Reeve's fingers dancing across the keyboard of his laptop, and the occasional scratch of his pen across the stack of papers at his side, enjoying the comfort of their amicable silence. After a moment, she felt him shift, leaning forward to place down his laptop on the table before him.

"Giving up?" He chuckles, sinking gratefully back in his seat, without the added weight of his laptop across his thighs. "Got to say, we've done well."

"It'll take a few more days for us to get through it all, I think." She throws her arms backward to rest against the cushions, her eyes remaining blissfully shut.

" 'Us?' I thought you were just planning on helping tonight? I couldn't ask you to help me do all of it."

She opened her eyes, turning her face toward him. "Well, why not? Besides, it's been nice having you around. I don't see you otherwise," she teased, reaching up to poke him in the ribs. He jerked away reflexively, suggesting that he may well be ticklish.

"Ah… touché."

"Well, I'm thinking that we deserve a drink!" She hops up and onto her feet with far too much energy, he thinks, heading towards the kitchen.

"I hope you don't mean alcoholic…" He runs a hand over his face, scratching at the stubble that grew in places that he would normally keep closely shaven. Perhaps it was getting too much, to keep it like this… Maybe he'd be saying goodbye to it soon.

"Haven't you heard of hair of the dog?" She re-emerges, clutching a bottle of what he suspects is rum. Saying nothing as he watches her pour it, he accepts the glass with only mild hesitation. What harm could it do? It might serve to make him more talkative- she had probably already noticed the tangible, heavy silences already. It is for that reason that he is glad she chose to switch on her stereo moments ago, should it occur again.

"Are we drinking to tomorrow this time?" He remarked, surprised to note that she blushes slightly, choosing to bend her head over her glass to hide it.

"No." She tosses her hair back defiantly, her delicate jaw set. "To today. I'm sick of tomorrows."

"To today, then." They drink in silence, and he wonders momentarily what has changed. They continue with the respective tasks in silence, and he is unable to concentrate, distracted his urge to reach out and sweep her hair aside, to touch her face, as if to affirm her reality. His glass stands empty now beside hers, still glistening with the residue of the rum. It was strong, and the buzz has given him the courage that he previously lacked.

He watches her carefully; it's always in moment like this, when he catches her unawares that she appears the most beautiful. Her long hair almost reaches her waist, and currently her fingers are buried in it, rubbing gently at the roots at the base of her neck, considering the paper before her. The lighting has been dimmed, though still he can pick out strands of auburn in hair that would appear otherwise as a dark sheet of near-ebony. He can distinguish the silhouette of her lashes, cast upon her pale cheeks, and he watches, enraptures, as she runs the pad of her index finger across the rose-coloured swell of her lower lip.

"Tifa…" His tone is thick, almost weary, and she lifts her gaze to meet his eyes, brow furrowed, curious. "Perhaps we should stop now. It's almost eleven. We can continue with this tomorrow, if you insist on helping me still." He teases the folder she is gripping from her fingers, setting it aside before resting his hand upon her slender shoulder. "Let's just enjoy a drink, before I have to go."

She eases her body up and back, so she is now seated beside him, her thighs almost brushing his. Clearing his throat, he bends forward to refill their glasses. He drinks perhaps a little faster than he normally would. "I should have done this a long time ago," He begins, and her curiosity becomes hybrid with trepidation. "I've perhaps not made time to talk with you, as I should have. I've wanted to apologise, though paradoxically I had not found opportunity until now."

"That's alright," Her smile is warm, though her fingertips, curling rather suddenly into his palm are cool. "I understand, you know? Perhaps better than you think. It's not like I'm used to people being busy. I'm best friends with probably the busiest set of people in the world. But they always make time for me when I need them, and they never let me down- you included. You proved that on my birthday."

"You deserved it; to be shown just how much people care about you." He squeezed her hand in return.

"And you too- I don't want to see you like I saw you last night, again. It's not good for you," She reaches out to touch his hair, spreading apart the strand with her thumb until it lay flat, shining cobalt in the light.

"When this is over... the memorial, finding Vincent… we should celebrate. All of us, I mean; Avalanche together."

"Oh, I plan on it." She replies softly, letting go of his hand and resting her cheek on her forearm. "Until then, though, don't go overworking yourself. I mean it; otherwise you're in trouble."

He chuckled softly, and she felt the heat rising to her face when she noted that his eyes stayed trained upon her face.

She couldn't stop thinking about the way he looked at her long after she had bid him goodbye at her door. It wasn't like she wasn't used to being stared at; in her bar, perhaps the low cut shirt did well to bring in business, but with Reeve, it was different. It was almost as if he revered her. _That_, she was not used to.

She was Tifa Lockheart, member of Avalanche and a woman of the sector seven slums. She was tougher than people gave her credit for, and in spite of this, she still wore her heart on her sleeve. A place where it was prone to getting damaged, she thought with a dry laugh as she set about washing up the neglected dishes from dinner.

Something was definitely on the horizon; she could feel it, like the pressing air before a thunder storm. All that she didn't know was when it would finally come into the light.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It seemed that Reeve's duties were amalgamating into one these days. The paper work dealt with, he then had to turn his attentions immediately to the memorial service, and going on tours to inspect the damage done to the areas on the outskirts of the Deepground reactor. Days would go by where neither Cloud nor Yuffie could say they had seen him at HQ. Tifa could only harbour her disapproval for a later date.

It must have been two weeks since the last time she had seen him; it had been at the memorial service, where she had been sat several rows back it the sea of chairs before the erected podium where he gave a speech in memory of those who had given their lives in the fight against Deepground. As of yet, Vincent had not been seen.

Tifa sighed to herself, cleaning the bar top somewhat autonomously; it was already shiny. Had she chosen to look down, she would have been able to see her worried face staring back at her in the granite. She daren't consider that they had lost another member of Avalanche to the seemingly never-ending fight against the many evils in the world.

She didn't want to believe it.

Vincent was stronger than that, surely? He must have gone to find himself, to find his reason for forgiveness. Hm. Much like Cloud, then. Were there any men these days who weren't content with how they were?

Well, Cid seemed happy enough. Though he was in a category all on his own.

It was past midnight, and she had come in to help complete the night's lack-lustre cleanup. She hadn't been in the mood, really. Yet right then, she wished she had of persevered with it. Huffing rather laboriously, she tossed the rag in the vague direction of the sink and leant on the bar with her elbows, thrusting her chin into her open palms.

Was anything ever going to calm down? Would there ever really be peace?

Her elbow nearly slipped from the bar top as the sudden shrill peal of her PHS, jerking her rather abruptly out of her mind's depressed ramblings.

Who, by Gaia, would call at this hour?

She didn't recognise the number, and so she answered with caution."H-hello?"

"Tifa, its Shelke." That girl had a strange, deliberate way of speaking that seemed unnerving to Tifa. It set the hairs on her arms on end, at times.

"Oh, hi." She narrowed her eyes a little. A tiny part of her still didn't trust the girl, in spite of how she had eventually assisted the WRO in the end. "What's up?"

"I have found Vincent. We are returning to Edge."

"You- you have? That's excellent news! Have you called Reeve?" Her sudden rush of joy overwhelmed her mistrust.

"Well, we thought you should be the one to tell him," She could almost picture the girl's strange, almost out-of-practice smile. It seemed like everyone, Shelke included, was aware of the attraction between herself and Reeve, though it didn't take much reading between the lines, she supposed.

"Oh, alright. Well, when can we expect you?"

Scribbling down details onto her memo pad with the phone wedged between her chin and her shoulder, she couldn't help but notice the bubble of excitement growing within her chest. Although the hour was late, she was positive that Reeve would want to hear the good news regardless. As she pocketed her PHS once more and began a mad dash to lock up before heading out with her only her keys in hand, she toyed with the idea of leaving him for at least a few more hours; after all, hadn't he done the same to her, when he had been in the hospital?

She shrugged away the notion as she had locked the door and set the alarms. She was far too excited to break the news to Reeve, whom she imagined had had somewhat of a lack of it lately.

Breaking into a jog, she headed in the direction of his apartment block.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**Revised and cut a little short, so I can perfect the next chapter! A Massive thank you to SakR9, who has reviewed quite a few chapters of this story, but who has also disabled PMing, so I could not thank them personally! **

**Please review!**


	10. Cait Sith's Return

**I've re-written this 3 times because I wasn't happy with it at all. So If you have read this chapter before I'd suggest rejigging your memory before starting it again. **

**10. Cait Sith's Return**

She'd never been to his apartment before, yet she knew that his building was located in the more affluent part of Edge, nearby to the WRO HQ. He wasn't in the office for once she had realised; staring up at the face of the WRO building revealed the top floor to be plunged in darkness. She'd pressed the buzzer somewhat hesitantly- he was probably sleeping, and she should have called first… But she couldn't help but feel that this was something he would want to hear personally. Plus, she had honestly been working with excuses to try and come see him for days now. God bless Shelke, as creepy as she was.

"_If that's you Reno, and if you're drunk, I'm not in the best of fucking moods." _Came Reeve's rather rude greeting over the intercom, bringing a giggle bubbling past her lips.

"Reeve, it's Tifa. So sorry, I know it's late but… Could I come up?"

"_Oh Jesus, sorry Tifa. Uh, right, just one moment ah-" _She could hear him fumbling around for something, laughing behind her hand as he releases a tirade of muttered curses from the background. "_Right, just wait for the lift."_

Reeve's apartment was the penthouse suite of the block, and to access it she must ride the elevator right to the 7th floor. She stepped into the carriage after it had juddered to a stop in the politely-lit foyer, waiting patiently with barely contained excitement as the doors closed and she began her ascent. She watched the floors pass in and out of her field of view through the grille as the car crept upwards, eventually juddering to a halt at the top. It looked dark on the other side. Frowning, she tugged the grille open and stepped into a small hallway with shiny hardwood floors.

"Uh- Reeve?" She called into the apartment, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Did he always walk around in the dark?

"S-sorry about that." He appeared in the doorway, looking rather flustered, wearing- as per usual- his uniform, though his shirt was open, and he wore no shoes. "I thought it was Reno again. He likes to bug me in the early hours."

"No problem," She glanced about somewhat reticently, trying her best _not_ to perve on the man. Underneath that uniform there was some serious muscle going on… "So… this is your apartment?"

"Yes, well.. um come in! I'll show you around."

She followed him through the doorway, rounding a corner and passing out into a large open room. At the rear of the apartment she could distinguish the shadow of his kitchen, and the tell-tale outline of furniture in what appeared to be his living room. Still, he neglected to turn on any lights, relying on the permeating glow of the full moon for guidance.

"You have a thing for big windows," She remarked, passing over to them and peering out over Edge. The windows in question stretched from floor to ceiling, and offered a wonderful view of the City square, and also of WRO HQ.

"It would certainly seem that way, yes." He came to a stop beside her, hands in his pockets. She shot a glance at him through her hair; he looked tired, the shadows under his eyes emphasised by the silvery light of the moon, and from his state of dress she suspected that he had perhaps not been to bed yet. At least she hadn't woken him.

She took the moment of silence to appraise the room with a little more scrutiny, her eyes having adjusted somewhat to the gloom. Her attention was grabbed suddenly by something that sat innocently on his kitchen counter.

When he had been at her house just two weeks before, he had caught sight of her sorry looking orchid plant. Cloud had given it to her as a gift, but she had always been terrible with houseplants, and sure enough the beautiful flowers had fallen from the stem, and the leaves were browning and withering at the tips. It was on its way out, though Reeve had shown some interest in it. He was good with plants, he said. He would take it from her and try and work his magic.

It appeared that magic was exactly what he had worked on it—it was in full bloom again, leaves lustrous and strong. Could it truly be the same plant? She frowned, about to pass comment, when Reeve turned to her to speak.

"I'm sorry if this sounds rude, but is there a reason you came here at this ungodly hour?" Her mind was taken from the plant for the moment, remembering her good news.

"Well yes, actually. I had some new information that I wanted to deliver personally."

"Oh?" He frowned a little, dragging a hand through his thick black hair before letting it run over his face.

"Shelke called." Her lips twitched, resisting her attempts to not smile. "Vincent is coming back!"

His mouth broke into a wide grin as he reached out to grasp her by the shoulders. "Really? Oh thank god."

"They should be with us in a day or so."

"That is…. excellent news." He laughed somewhat feebly, letting his hands drop to his sides. "For days now I had been trying not to face the horrible eventuality that he might not be coming back."

"I know. I've been feeling pretty low for a while too, worrying that… that there might be one less of us. But… Well, everything is better now. Apart from…." She lowers her gaze, picking at her fingernails. "I've been wondering about Cait Sith. Did you… did you fix him?"

He chuckled, not quite meeting her eyes. "Well actually I was just ah…taking him apart when you called," He jerked his head vaguely in the direction behind him where a door stood ajar, allowing a thin bar of weak amber light to leak into the gloom. "I can… show you- if you like?"

She nodded, following him across the living space towards the door. It opened into a small room which was devoid of any furniture whatsoever apart from a small desk, shoved into the corner. As he hastily tried to clear some floor space for her to stand, she examined the array of tools and gizmos laid out across the floor; what any of them actually did, she couldn't say. The soft amber glow she had noticed before came from a small lamp, set up beside the work space. Cait Sith's tiny form was currently lying face down on the carpet, the back panel removed.

"What _is_ all this stuff?" She enquires, moving aside a set of screwdrivers so she could kneel next to the lifeless Cait Sith.

"Electrical circuitry, fuses, wires… Tonnes of crap." He laughs, seating himself cross-legged before his motionless creation. "He doesn't seem to want to work properly anymore. It seems Azul gave him a good beating."

She grimaced, feeling somewhat responsible; after all, he had saved her life. "So it _is_ all robotics then?" She turned over a small metal device in her hand,. "How does it work?"

He paused before answering. "The robotics are really for the camera and for sound, as well as to help him move around with fluidity."

"I never really understood how you controlled him," She admitted, watching with fascination as Reeve began to fit several components together and slot them into place inside of Cait's cavity.

"Well, it's a bit strange, really. You'll probably think I'm a freak."

She gave him a disapproving look. "Well, I can… I can control him, as if he… as if he is part of me. Kind of like telekinesis if you will but… It's like… I give Cait Sith life- I give him a mind of his own." As he speaks, fitting the back panel into place once more, the furry cat judders to life in his hands, peering around the room with yellow eyes. "ShinRa wanted me to use this invention of mine to spy on you guys back in the day. I never thought I would end up helping you, in the end."

"What made you decide to help us?" She is fascinated, enjoying being able to learn more about him.

"Well I… I realised I was making a mistake… I realised just whose side I was on, deep down inside. To be totally honest with you, I felt like I had real friends, I felt like… Like I could really make a difference." The robotic cat started to purr in his hands, though it seemed that his movements were still severely limited. As he set the cat down, it fell limp, the light vanishing from his eyes. "I felt like I belonged."

She gazed upon Reeve openly, her chin resting in her hand, legs crossed before her. His eyes were pools of near-black in the dim light, his skin almost amber. Upon an impulse she reached out to take one of his hands, smoothing the pads of her fingers over the slightly-roughened skin of his palms, tracing his strong fingers. He watched her with open curiosity and a restrained longing, dark hair casting interesting shadows across his face. He turned his palm upwards, allowing her exploration of the lines that criss-crossed them. They were maker's hands, strong and capable.

Then just as their eyes met, and something flipped in her stomach, her exhaustion got the better of her—she gave a yawn, eyes watering with the effort to try and keep it at bay.

"Gosh! Sorry about that, I guess I must be more tired than I thought," She glances at the wall behind her, where a clock ticked innocently—it was well into the second hour of the morning, and she should have been in bed hours ago.

His hands almost jerk away from her hold. "I can sympathise with that. I should probably turn in myself—I have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Reeve, It's Saturday tomorrow…"

"No rest for the wicked, they say!" He chuckled, though the warmth didn't quite reach his eyes. "I should walk you home."

At this, she smiled. "Worried I can't take care of myself?"

"Not at all—but still, I should walk you home. Let me get my coat."

It felt so strange to be out so late. Above them, the canopy of stars gaped, uninterrupted by structure or pollution of light. It was beautiful, and liberating to see. She remembered the days of darkness in the Midgar slums, living under the filth of the plate. Life could never go back to that. Reeve was making sure of that. She drew a little closer to him then, arm threaded through his giving a gentle squeeze. She was so proud of how far he had come. His brow was furrowed, curious, though he did not break the silence he shared with his companion.

The walk to her apartment building didn't seem to take long at all. She discovered she was disappointed, though her tiredness had abated somewhat since leaving his apartment. She attributed it to the cool night air.

At the door to her apartment they come to a stop. "Reeve…" His gaze is weary as it settles on her, and she bites her lip to catch herself. She does not wish to burden him now. "Are you alright? I mean really alright?"

She almost laughed at the effort he took in creating a smile for her. "I am… exhausted. I think… I think I had better go back." She had to admit, she didn't feel too good herself.

"I will call you tomorrow—make sure you aren't working too hard." She veiled her threat in affection, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek and letting herself into her apartment. His footsteps were heavy as they receded down the hall.

She bit down on her lip, shoulder blades pressed against her door as she battled with herself. Something wasn't right, that was for sure, though she struggled to articulate why she felt that way. She frowned at her reflection as se brushed her teeth.

She received a message from him shortly after on her PHS to let her know he was home safe and after that she fell asleep, almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Her consciousness was carried off to a dreamless place, dark and without stars, borne on the unseen current that had battered against her this night. She dwelt in this void until the mid-morning.

Outside in the still of the pre-dawn hour, a grey cat stalks through the shadows, searching for a way to reach her. It sits by the door and patiently waits.

-0-

She woke with a start that morning, staring with wonder at the golden-yellow light filtering in through her window. She had neglected to closer her curtains before she had fallen into bed, such had been the extent of her exhaustion. Squinting, she slipped her legs out of bed and stood on refreshed limbs. As great as she felt, she could not help but dwell on the night before; she had felt so strange all of a sudden, sat near to Reeve in his workshop. After that, it had been a genuine battle to keep from passing out.

Frowning, she made her way into the kitchen, clicking on the kettle and contemplating whether or not she was hungry enough for bacon and pancakes. A mewling at her kitchen window caught her attention; she glanced up to see a grey cat sat at her window, wide green eyes imploring her to allow it to enter her kitchen. It began to paw at the glass now that it had her attention. She drew closer, hand extended to open her window. Was that…?

She was only on the second floor, and cats were resourceful creatures, so it did not surprise her it had gotten to her windowsill. Upon her opening the window it slinked inside, rubbing its cheek against her arm.

"Cait! So he fixed you!" The Grey cat with his white markings was hard to mistake, though he did not answer her save to rub himself against her face as she lowered it towards him. She'd always loved cats. Strange though… she'd not really known Cait to behave this way before, let alone… purr?

Laughing softly through her nose, she buried her fingers in the fur behind his ears, grinning as he leaned heavily against her, eyes closed, clearly enjoying the attention. "Well, not sure what Reeve is getting out of this…" She muttered to herself.

Perhaps now was as good a time as any to call him. She returned to her bedroom to retrieve her PHS, the cat at her heels, dialing his number and pressing the device to her ear.

It took a few rings til he answered. "_Tifa, don't tell me that's really the time—"_

She glanced at the clock, and confirmed to him that it was indeed almost eleven. "You didn't stay up too late trying to fix him did you?"

"_Who?—ah, Cait you mean? Well I stayed up for a while when I got back, but I couldn't fix him."_

"What?"

"_I couldn't fix him—I couldn't ah… get through to him like I usually do. Something wasn't quite right. So I decided to let it alone for now."_

"That's doesn't explain why he is here now, in my kitchen then, does it?" She bit down on her lower lip as she sank to sit on the edge of her bed, reflexively petting the cat as it now settled itself in her available lap.

There was a palpable silence on the other end of the line. "_He… he is? Is he talking?"_

Of course, Cait Sith had been able to communicate with them verbally in that funny little accent of his. Then again, this cat was… well, a cat. She had almost not spotted that it was in fact a robotic image of a cat, for the fact that the strange little outfit he usually sported was gone. She communicated this to Reeve who responded again with a loaded silence.

"Reeve? What's going on?"

"I… I don't know. But I plan on finding out. Give me a couple of hours, I'll stop by and see him for myself."

-0-

Reeve hung up his PHS, worrying his lower lip. What was he going to tell her?

Upon further inspection, his workshop was devoid of the broken little cat robot that he had tried so desperately to fix last night.

He glanced up at the orchid plant that stood innocently on his kitchen counter; it was in full bloom, leaves thick and lustrous. When he had taken it from Tifa, it had been, for all intents and purposes, dead.

He would have to tell her. Everything.

-0-


	11. The Origins of Cait

Chapter 11: The Origins of Cait

As it happened, she didn't get a chance to speak to Reeve as soon as she would have liked. She suspected that he was getting involved in making preparations for Vincent's return, and she herself was guilty of getting swept up in that, too. The venue was of course going to be the Seventh Heaven, and it demanded all of her effort to get the place up to scratch and ready for the impromptu gathering. Her phone didn't stop ringing, though to her evident disappointment, it was never Reeve's caller ID that lit up the screen.

Cait Sith on the other hand seemed unfazed by all the action- he had followed her to the bar, and had curled up into a ball in one of the booths once he seemed satisfied that she wasn't going to leave here for some time.

Truth be told, the little fur ball had been her saving grace. Whenever she had allowed herself the luxury of sitting down to catch her breath, the cat would climb into her lap, purring at her touch and pressing his wet little nose to her face. He showed her ultimate adoration, and it delighted her.

Soon though, all was in place; chairs, tables and drinks at the ready. She was closing the bar to the public again tonight, though business would not be slow, by any means. Vincent had made many acquaintances during his short time in the WRO, and many wanted to attend the celebration for his return. She had asked a few of her barmaids to work tonight so she could fully let herself enjoy the party, too.

She wasn't surprised that Reeve was one of the last to arrive of her friends, slipping in the front door looking wearier than ever. She had almost not spotted him; he wore a slate grey jumper and dark pants and not, for once, his WRO uniform. Her fingers twitched around the neck of a bottle of whiskey, circumnavigating tables until she reached his side.

"Tifa…" His sigh was weary, voice barely audible over the rabble in the bar.

"Reeve," She raised a hand to quiet him. "First off, you are going to have a drink with me."

He ran a hand through his hair slowly, following her obediently to a vacant table. At her insistence, they downed three shots, one after the other. "Gods! You don't mess around do you?" He laughed, tension dissipating from him as he soaked in her presence. The scores of people in the room were observant of them at their table, though none saw fit to disturb them. For that, she was grateful. "Where is Cait?" He glanced about the room expectantly, though his search could hardly penetrate the sea of bodies.

"He doesn't much like the noise," She told him, standing up. "Come—he is in the back, sleeping no doubt."

She left the whiskey and their drained glasses atop the table, easing her way through the throngs of people to reach the door that lead into the back. The swell of noise abated, and she stepped into the cooler seating area gratefully. This room was usually used as a break room for staff, though at the moment, no-one was really working. She had allowed the girls to drink too, to get into the spirit a little. All were friends, and she trusted them all.

As she had suspected, the cat had retreated to this quiet space once people hard started to arrive and make noise, curling himself into a tight ball on one of the armchairs. At Tifa and Reeve's entrance he lifted his head, green eyes taking them in before he gave a luxurious stretch, pink mouth gaping in a yawn. He slinked into place on Tifa's lap once she had seated herself, though upon catching Reeve's scent, he immediately forced himself into Reeve's personal space, purring contently.

"This is remarkable…" Reeve muttered, running his hand over the soft fur. The cat seemed happy enough to be made such a fuss of. "And he has shown no signs of speaking? Of any higher intelligence?"

"Not a peep." Tifa shrugged a little, watching them both carefully.

"I may have achieved something that I never thought possible," He muttered, more to himself than to her. She had a feeling that she was about to embark on a very long conversation, and she was conscious that Vincent was yet to arrive. Still, she was burning with curiosity.

Emboldened by the three shots of whiskey, she shifted a little closer to him on the sofa, close enough that he couldn't well ignore her presence. "Tell me Reeve. Tell me what's going on."

He hesitated for a moment, clearly at war with himself. Could she ever understand? Would it drive a wedge between them? He almost snorted; as if he wasn't doing enough to that end already. He was fooling himself, really.

He took a slow, deep breath. "I first realised I had this… ability if you will, when I… When I was very young. I had a cat. He was my best friend," A small smile crept onto his face at the recollection, though it was tinged with pain also. "I didn't have the most stable of upbringings, yet he was a warmth at the foot of my bed at night, he was always there at the reach of my hand, should I need him. He followed me everywhere… until that one day. I could see it was going to happen, and I was so powerless to stop it."

He swallowed and exhaled through his nose before continuing. "I saw the car coming; it wasn't going particularly fast, but Leo thought he would be able to make it. He was hit, and he fell to the dirt, unmoving and silent. What I saw next, I assumed everyone could see. As I knelt by his lifeless form, I saw a light, so faint at first, yet as it twisted lazily from his body I began to see more lights. So intricate and delicate; a million harp strings, intertwined with one another to form a web so complex, that it stretched from me, to him; to everything. I sensed that his threads were coming loose from this weave, and that somehow I could put it all back together. Yet when I tried… I heard his scream of pain in my head. I knew then that his body was too broken to send a soul back to. I was thrown backwards, blocked out by an angry red swell of pain that emanated from my hands, where I had touched him.

"I returned home with his body. I told my mother what I had seen. I assumed it was… natural. That everyone could see the lights. Yet as I registered the horror in her expression I realised I was not… _normal_… We never spoke if it again, and I vowed never to try to use my ability on another living creature again."

She opened her mouth, yet no sound came out on her first attempt. "But… Cait sith?"

"Yes, I was getting to that." He cleared his throat. "My mother was never one for gardening. She was hopeless, too distracted to devote her time to keeping something alive. Plants need the right balance of light, water and nutrients to survive. I noticed that they were connected to the same web of light that I had seen that day; when my Leo had died. I… taught myself to not only just manipulate them, but to read them. What did they want? What did they _need_? I gave them that. My mother's garden was the pride of the village.

"Cait sith was… an accident. Electronics became an obsession of mine in my teens. The same principles applied to electronics, as the lifestream did to the plants; they needed certain criteria to be met before they would work. It all made sense to me; circuitry, current, resistance. I built clockwork robots, wind-up mechanical mice… Sometimes bigger animal models, if the mood took me.

"Over the years I began to notice that my… perception of the lifestream all around me peaked when in periods of extreme emotion; when angry, upset, or even happy, everything burst into clarity."

"Can you see it now?" She leans a little closer, captivated. Warm brown eyes met hers, though she sensed he was searching for something beyond her physical form.

"Yes. Faintly. It is… our connection is very strong."

"Connection?" She frowns gently, pupils dancing about, as if searching for a physical linkage between herself and Reeve.

"All living things are connected to each other, in some way, by the Lifestream. But you and I… when you used Life a while back, you used Materia as a conduit, if you will, to delve into the Lifestream and reclaim the essence of me, to bring it back to my body—"

"—Like you tried to do with Leo?"

"Yes, exactly." He nodded, impressed that she had made the connection. "When a person uses an ability like that, it takes a lot of your energy. You get it back, eventually, though some parts are… exchanged. Some of the energy you spent trying to bring me back is now a part of me. That's the cost, I suppose. Thankfully you had the sense to heal my body first, otherwise you would have brought me back to an already damaged body. I would have died over again."

"So you somehow used this ability to animate a robot?"

"Like I said—I began to make animal models. And in periods of high stress, my ability to tune into, and thus manipulate the lifestream heightens. It was pure chance that in one of these fits of emotion, I accidentally channelled some energy into one of my mechanical mice. It began to move on its own! I was so astonished, that the reaction in the robot was mirror to my own, and it fled beneath my bed! I began to experiment with it, and over the years, Cait Sith was born."

"So somehow you have the innate ability to manipulate Lifestream… as if you had the materia… That's… astonishing! But how can you animate something, and give it its own personality? I thought you didn't want to mess with living things?"

"Like I said before; some parts are exchanged. Into each of my… creations, I put aspects of myself, and fuel them with raw energy. With Cait Sith back in Avalanche, I relied on my cunning, and my skills in subterfuge and secrecy."

"But what about this little guy? You didn't seem to think you had anything to do with this?"

"Actually, I did." His had found the back of his head, and if she wasn't mistaken, Tifa saw his cheeks redden. "Shortly before you came by last night, I was trying to fix him. I think in my sheer exhaustion, I couldn't… muster the energy to instil any part of myself in him. Yet I must have left a link between him and myself, something that drained from both you and I; remember how tired you suddenly felt? Even as I slept, I must have been inadvertently siphoning parts of myself; my emotions, thoughts and feelings into him, all stimulated by a sudden surge of emotion…"

"What emotion?" She struggled to recall if he had been angry, or indeed stressed that night. "I thought it was when you were upset…?"

He faltered a little. "Not… not exactly." Here, he glanced over at the cat. It mewed in response, slinking over to rub itself against his outstretched hand. "I've never been able to channel like this before. He is unlike anything I have created. He is a reflection of my compassion, and my desire to protect those that I care about the most. He is in that sense, the strongest soul I have created. It really took it out of me. In fact, it still is. It's draining me."

"How do we stop it?"

"I can't. Not without… ending him." One look into Reeve's face confirmed that he wasn't about to do that. "I will just need to learn to adapt. Keeping him nearby helps, although he doesn't seem to want to leave your side." He chuckled softly, albeit a little nervous at the implications of his words.

"I see…" She shifted a little closer to him on the sofa, inching her fingers into his palm. His strong hand closed around hers. "Well that's as good an excuse as any not to let you leave me tonight."

"Tifa?"

"Reeve, don't tell me you're so dense." Her punch ached long after the contact had ceased.

"No, Tifa…You deserve better than… than what I can give you." He lowered his head, hair falling into his eyes. It didn't matter, though, for he had screwed them shut.

"Life isn't about what we deserve, Reeve," She sounded a little angry, to his dismay. "You deserve more rest, a vacation and—" She sighed heavily. "—and someone to look after you, when you can't."

"Hm. You deserve someone who can give you one hundred percent. Tifa… I'm barely even whole to begin with, and I can't see how I can give you the time you deserve."

"Reeve for god's sake!" Her rant was interrupted by a sudden outcry from the room next door. It was apparent from the shouting and the applause that Vincent had finally arrived at Seventh Heaven. As much as she felt she needed to finish this conversation with Reeve, Vincent deserved the attention tonight. She shot Reeve a look that said 'this isn't over', before stepping around him and re-entering the bar, swallowed once again by the noise and energy of the people around her.

-0-

She tried. She tried so hard to forget about it, but it ate away at her slowly. She had embraced Vincent, forced some whiskey down him, as well as taking a good few shots herself, before stepping outside to get some air. She knew she wouldn't find the answer to her problems at the bottom of a shot glass, yet still, she figured it was worth a try.

The night was cool and still without. She felt oddly removed from the situation, the hubbub of the celebrations from within distorted. She heard the door open, then close again, shutting off the swell of noise that escaped. She didn't turn to find out who it was, though at the sound of Vincent's voice, she relaxed a little.

"You shouldn't be angry with Reeve." Vincent told her softly. She almost started at the touch of his cool fingers at the curve of her elbow.

"Don't tell me how to feel," She almost spat, hunching in on herself on the doorstep. "He's running from me. Men have a knack of doing that. Tell me, am I that fucking scary?"

"Normally—No. Right now?" She caught a glimmer in his eye and a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Was Vincent trying to make her… laugh?

"Seriously, what is wrong with all the men in Avalanche?" She huffed, though with good humour intended. "You're all emotional hermits." She knew her observation wouldn't offend him. Nothing ever did.

"I suppose we all have our reasons." He replied. She turned her head sharply at hearing a metallic click, and at the acrid scent of cigarette smoke. "I can only speak for myself, though." He exhaled away from her, silver smoke sucked into the cold night air.

"It's not worth me telling you that smoking's bad for you, is it?" His irises caught the angry orange glare from the end of the cigarette as he inhaled again. "Figures. Though I admit it's quite an attractive concept at this moment in time—got a spare?"

They shared the front step and smoked their cigarettes in the moonlight, her arm threaded through his as they revelled in the companionable silence.

-0-

_So that's what I've been working on for some time, though I must admit I'm a bit stuck now._

_Hm…_


End file.
